FINN
and into the forest i go,
Wordlessly understanding, Finn taps a finger against his nose as if to assure the boy that he need say no more. The growling of his stomach tells just as much as the way he shuts down, the tears on his cheeks, and it’s a sad fact of life that this iteration of Finn is both more open and more closed than he ever will be again in his life. ”Alright,” he says, straightening up properly again and abruptly stepping past the boy, leaving him hiding under the stairs.
He’s gone for some time, and the house continues to sway and groan with the antics going on within its rooms, but there are no further movements. Not until the shift of someone returning through the kitchen casts a shadow on the world opposite the stairs, and a hand - a hand with a wrist that has been recently chafed and bruised by restraints - appears, holding a plate upon which sits thick slices of breath slathered with honey.
”My name is Finn. Don’t worry - I’ll keep watch for you.”
He’s gone for some time, and the house continues to sway and groan with the antics going on within its rooms, but there are no further movements. Not until the shift of someone returning through the kitchen casts a shadow on the world opposite the stairs, and a hand - a hand with a wrist that has been recently chafed and bruised by restraints - appears, holding a plate upon which sits thick slices of breath slathered with honey.
”My name is Finn. Don’t worry - I’ll keep watch for you.”
to lose my mind and find my soul
