FERN
Jump in the car, get on the road
Travel where nobody knows
No turning back, feet on the dash
Travel where nobody knows
No turning back, feet on the dash
The next several bits of stairway are taken with all the concentration of the builders who originally laid them. Each poke and prod of their boom comes with a careful tilt of her head, listening out for the mechanisms of their demise, or crouching down to peer more closely at anything that seems out of place. "This is a very well-designed trial." The solemn judgement is whispered over to him as she finishes running a finger over the edge of one stair. The collected debris she rubs between her forefinger and thumb, holding it up for a sniff before she wipes it off on the side of her shorts. "The traps are almost undetectable." Volume alone seems at risk of setting them off with the way her voice stays low, slinking along like a cat on the prowl.
Just then, out of sight with a twist of stone, a ruckus rises. Fern at once straightens up, hair prickling up her scalp, and broom lifting over her head in some grand display of extra height. "What is that!?" She wonders, and the softer, insistent sound of its approach rises."I think we triggered one of the monster traps," she wails, unaware that it's just Bird crash-landing and on the hunt for any food-related offerings or trails of crumbs.
Just then, out of sight with a twist of stone, a ruckus rises. Fern at once straightens up, hair prickling up her scalp, and broom lifting over her head in some grand display of extra height. "What is that!?" She wonders, and the softer, insistent sound of its approach rises."I think we triggered one of the monster traps," she wails, unaware that it's just Bird crash-landing and on the hunt for any food-related offerings or trails of crumbs.
Can't pay the tab, sneak out the bar
We skip towns like shooting stars
We're on the run, just living life
We skip towns like shooting stars
We're on the run, just living life
