i'm not the man they think i am at home
Remi keeps his eyes on the boys rather than the light, which is the only reason his feet do not follow Ronin’s with the same unthinking pull. The glow catches at the edge of his vision, pale and patient between the roots, but Carlo’s helpful logic draws a low sound from him that is half sigh, half grumble. "That is not what he meant, and you know it," he mutters, not quite loud enough to make an argument of it, though his eyes flick from one identical dark head to the other as if counting them by sheer force of will. "Following someone into trouble is still trouble."
The tentacles come easily, sliding into use with the same familiar economy as his hands, dark and sure as they reach past the twins to draw aside brambles and dripping vines. One coils around a low branch and pulls it away from their path, another presses a tangle of roots down so small feet will not catch, while Remi stays at the rear of their uneven little line with Ronin ahead and both boys between them. It is not the arrangement he would have chosen, not with that strange haze slipping deeper into the Peepholes and Ronin moving toward it as if his thoughts have softened around the edges, but it is the arrangement they have now, and Remi holds it together as best he can.
"No touching anything that glows," he adds, because the list of things that should not need saying has become, recently, much longer than he ever imagined. "No crawling into holes, no drinking mysterious water, no picking up bones, and no deciding that because your father has wandered into trouble first, it is now a family activity."
The tentacles come easily, sliding into use with the same familiar economy as his hands, dark and sure as they reach past the twins to draw aside brambles and dripping vines. One coils around a low branch and pulls it away from their path, another presses a tangle of roots down so small feet will not catch, while Remi stays at the rear of their uneven little line with Ronin ahead and both boys between them. It is not the arrangement he would have chosen, not with that strange haze slipping deeper into the Peepholes and Ronin moving toward it as if his thoughts have softened around the edges, but it is the arrangement they have now, and Remi holds it together as best he can.
"No touching anything that glows," he adds, because the list of things that should not need saying has become, recently, much longer than he ever imagined. "No crawling into holes, no drinking mysterious water, no picking up bones, and no deciding that because your father has wandered into trouble first, it is now a family activity."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
