FINN
and into the forest i go,
Finn doesn’t really see what happens; darkness has clouded his vision and all he’s aware of, at first, is that he’s breathing again. Gasping, in fact, collapsing back against the wall. He’s massaging his windpipe as he gazes at the suddenly dead man on the ground before him, Finn sliding to the ground and wheezing his way back to seeing clearly. ”It wasn’t me,” he manages eventually, the new voice sliding into his subconscious like something slick and dark and strangely welcome.
The sight of Remi, recognisable suddenly against the windowsill, has tears prickling at the corners of the not-Spyglass’s eyes, and he’s honestly not sure whether they’re happy or sad. ”He did this to himself,” he mutters, his voice made rough by his handling. ”He deserved it, though.”
The sight of Remi, recognisable suddenly against the windowsill, has tears prickling at the corners of the not-Spyglass’s eyes, and he’s honestly not sure whether they’re happy or sad. ”He did this to himself,” he mutters, his voice made rough by his handling. ”He deserved it, though.”
to lose my mind and find my soul
