You are the night-time fear
Well.Shit.
It doesn't matter that Aamu, too, freezes, that his careful hum goes as silent as only an Ascended can: the damage is already done. And he knew this was going to happen, didn't he? And he did it anyway. Like a fool, like one invincible, immortal, arrogant—
He doesn't know which comes first, his bolting or their screaming.
The forest is a white blur around him as he leaps into startled motion, one eye looking out for Mabel, to make sure she doesn't fall behind, to the mercy of the banshees, because wouldn't that be grand? He curses himself as he runs, quick and lithe, through the dark. What a massive fool he is, and what a mystery this doll will remain.
You are the morning when it's clear
AAMU
