FINN
the spyglass
I’ll take the long way ‘round
Finn knows this look. Knows how it is to be sized up, to be scrutinised, and it’s almost an automatic response for him to grow still, for him to politely focus his gaze somewhere over the other man’s shoulder until his inspection is done. ”It is a habit I am trying to break,” he says of his distraction, though he has about as much of a chance of that as learning to fly.
Still, the offer to get him back to town, the guess about the inn - it has a smile curling at his lips, something in him seeming to relax a bit. ”Is it that obvious?” he murmurs, glancing down at the offered hand before extending his own to shake it. His handshake is surprisingly firm, warm, at odds with the rest of him. All of this is, in fact, and that’s merely because he hasn’t worn his glasses out today. He knows nothing of what this man is, of how he should behave.
”Finn,” he informs him, paying the cost of his name. ”Rosencrantz. I appreciate your help.”
Still, the offer to get him back to town, the guess about the inn - it has a smile curling at his lips, something in him seeming to relax a bit. ”Is it that obvious?” he murmurs, glancing down at the offered hand before extending his own to shake it. His handshake is surprisingly firm, warm, at odds with the rest of him. All of this is, in fact, and that’s merely because he hasn’t worn his glasses out today. He knows nothing of what this man is, of how he should behave.
”Finn,” he informs him, paying the cost of his name. ”Rosencrantz. I appreciate your help.”
I’ll find my own way down
