names so deep and names so true
"No." Cian agrees, almost pleasantly as he steps out into the rain. "It won't."
Finn is a bloodhound. A beaten and abused stray plucked from his would-be grave in the gutter and given purpose again. A purebred, possibly the product of incest than thoughtful choosing, he is useful only to a point. Once he starts pointing in the wrong direction, following his own trails and ignoring the commands and his training, he'll find himself in an altogether different sort of hell than the one he currently experiences.
Disappearing yet again into the rain, where Cian is headed is for Finn to only guess at. He has work to do, after all.
~FIN
Finn is a bloodhound. A beaten and abused stray plucked from his would-be grave in the gutter and given purpose again. A purebred, possibly the product of incest than thoughtful choosing, he is useful only to a point. Once he starts pointing in the wrong direction, following his own trails and ignoring the commands and his training, he'll find himself in an altogether different sort of hell than the one he currently experiences.
Disappearing yet again into the rain, where Cian is headed is for Finn to only guess at. He has work to do, after all.
~FIN
THE EYE
they're blood to me they're dust to you
