memory’s so treacherous
The sound of her voice, comparatively calm in all the prickling panic he's feeling, does a lot to calm Finn's frayed nerves. She certainly doesn't seem to be drowning, the Spyglass relaxing by degrees and placing down his half eaten slice of bread onto the cloth he's spread out to keep it on. Then, on second thought, he tosses it out to sea where a hel swoops down to grab it. Easier to give it away than to have it stolen, he thinks.
"Good," he calls back, surprised by the follow-up questions and instantly regretting the opening to be social. But then what if she had been drowning? His conscience berates him enough that he's willing to re-engage. "Yes, I was," he tells her. "I thought you might be in some trouble out there. My name is Finn, what's yours?"
"Good," he calls back, surprised by the follow-up questions and instantly regretting the opening to be social. But then what if she had been drowning? His conscience berates him enough that he's willing to re-engage. "Yes, I was," he tells her. "I thought you might be in some trouble out there. My name is Finn, what's yours?"
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
