when you bury your pain
Finn falls straight over the shadowy form of Remi’s body. Why? Because of course he does, that’s why. The Spyglass has found Mort’s daughter and now all that’s left is to get back to the Mathair and to Torchline. Or he could just use the ring on his thumb to get himself home, but... something about that is deeply unappealing. It’s probably having to get that report on Cian’s desk. But Finn has five days (maybe four, three possibly?) and these woods have eaten him all up. He walks aimlessly - until he’s on the forest floor, of course.
Rolling to look, his glasses askew, he swears that his pulse actually stops for a second at the sight of the aura he recognises so immediately, even with the body attached to it swathed in darkness. His clothes, once clean and pressed from where he’d first arrived, are now a different story; Finn is creased, smudged with moss and dirt, with grass stains on his knuckles and mud under his nails. ”R...Remi...?” He doesn’t keep the panic out of his voice. He doesn’t try.
Rolling to look, his glasses askew, he swears that his pulse actually stops for a second at the sight of the aura he recognises so immediately, even with the body attached to it swathed in darkness. His clothes, once clean and pressed from where he’d first arrived, are now a different story; Finn is creased, smudged with moss and dirt, with grass stains on his knuckles and mud under his nails. ”R...Remi...?” He doesn’t keep the panic out of his voice. He doesn’t try.
THE SPYGLASS
you only strengthen its roots
