i was quiet, but i was not blind
You have been seated so long that the memory mud had nearly taken over your legs and lower stomach. You don't mind of course; you aren't squeamish about anything, but especially not naturally occurring things. Besides, you've seen memory mud before and though it's a bit bothersome that flecks of mud are getting onto your notes, you try to allow the mud as much autonomy as possible.
Ahead you see a pale-haired boy running in and out of the houses. He isn't yelling so it doesn't seem to be indicative of any sort of emergency, but nor can you think of any other reason to explain his actions. This probably has more to do with the fact that human-animals are notoriously unpredictable than anything Oliver was or wasn't doing.
Still, you don't bother to lend a hand or even call out. Instead you simply make more notes as your lower half slowly turns to mud-covered stone.
Ahead you see a pale-haired boy running in and out of the houses. He isn't yelling so it doesn't seem to be indicative of any sort of emergency, but nor can you think of any other reason to explain his actions. This probably has more to do with the fact that human-animals are notoriously unpredictable than anything Oliver was or wasn't doing.
Still, you don't bother to lend a hand or even call out. Instead you simply make more notes as your lower half slowly turns to mud-covered stone.
OIA'I'O
