FINN
and into the forest i go,
Depositing the plate on the bar for a moment, that he can enjoy his drink, Finn accepts it and knocks it back in a fluid motion that speaks of practice rather than enjoyment. His lips twist at the description, though nothing reaches his stormy eyes, not even the violence committed against his fellow workers. They all have their own scars, their own bruises; some simply wear them better than others. ”I’d charge him before he has another,” he says quietly. ”He might end up walking and leaving one of you dead. That’s just a waste.”
Sighing and pulling back, grabbing up the plate again, he glances fleetingly over his shoulder to ensure that the boy has scarpered where he needs to. ”Best of luck to whoever gets him,” he says in consolation, casting a wave and swanning away back to the kitchens, hopefully with Remi creeping ahead of him now.
Sighing and pulling back, grabbing up the plate again, he glances fleetingly over his shoulder to ensure that the boy has scarpered where he needs to. ”Best of luck to whoever gets him,” he says in consolation, casting a wave and swanning away back to the kitchens, hopefully with Remi creeping ahead of him now.
to lose my mind and find my soul
