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 abrupt way he moves while she continues to prattle on, building layer upon layer of possibility as what each person (and god) knows tangles itself amid itself, well it shuts her up instantly. Bearing witness to possibly the most heroic thing imaginable, she watches Calan (?) bravely bait the traps with his body. Unlike her prior attempt, where she'd at least had the encouragement that Bird had survived before them, he rolls in with only a dream and a prayer.
Fern gasps, both hands flying so suddenly to her cheeks in surprise that her broom clatters to the ground, serving as the punctuation mark behind his movement. She can feel the moment tipping forward with anticipation, or maybe it's just her, rising onto her tiptoes like the least amount of contact with the ground she can have might help erase his presence. Her eyes have gone wide enough to hurt, forgetting to blink as she strains, breath held like it too cannot be permitted to disturb the slightest bit of stone.
He lands with a similar grace as before, and as his head turns, hair worn with adventure, the moment finally breaks into the promise of safety that's been earned. "YOU'RE INSANE!" she calls out with a bright enough laugh that it's praise rather than insult. Reaching to pluck up her broom, and his, she trots over to him and his front row seat to the shrine.
"Okay, so no traps," she asserts with a nod, gaze already starting to pour over the odds and ends left all around. "I guess that just leaves...cleaning." Definitely not the part she's been actively avoiding, drawing out a task that could have only taken ten minutes into something at least triple that, intentionally or not. All of the things look like relics best left undisturbed, but she frowns at them, because they're going to make using a broom very difficult. "I'm preeeeetty sure if we break any of those, we'll be cursed for life." She stoops closer to one edge of the shrine, peering down at a little mirror left there. "What if someone picks one up and the other sweeps under it and then we put it back down? Gently."
Fern gasps, both hands flying so suddenly to her cheeks in surprise that her broom clatters to the ground, serving as the punctuation mark behind his movement. She can feel the moment tipping forward with anticipation, or maybe it's just her, rising onto her tiptoes like the least amount of contact with the ground she can have might help erase his presence. Her eyes have gone wide enough to hurt, forgetting to blink as she strains, breath held like it too cannot be permitted to disturb the slightest bit of stone.
He lands with a similar grace as before, and as his head turns, hair worn with adventure, the moment finally breaks into the promise of safety that's been earned. "YOU'RE INSANE!" she calls out with a bright enough laugh that it's praise rather than insult. Reaching to pluck up her broom, and his, she trots over to him and his front row seat to the shrine.
"Okay, so no traps," she asserts with a nod, gaze already starting to pour over the odds and ends left all around. "I guess that just leaves...cleaning." Definitely not the part she's been actively avoiding, drawing out a task that could have only taken ten minutes into something at least triple that, intentionally or not. All of the things look like relics best left undisturbed, but she frowns at them, because they're going to make using a broom very difficult. "I'm preeeeetty sure if we break any of those, we'll be cursed for life." She stoops closer to one edge of the shrine, peering down at a little mirror left there. "What if someone picks one up and the other sweeps under it and then we put it back down? Gently."
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
