the spyglass
I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun
Returned and summoned, Finn comes straight to Cian's office before anything else. It had been a surprisingly quick and eventless trip, for which the Spyglass is very thankful, though the weight of the amulet in his inside pocket is palpable as he heads upstairs. Smelling of woodsmoke from heading through Torchline into the Oerwoud, and sweet, cold leaves from the jungle, he pauses at the open door and tilts his head.
Clearing his throat and tapping on the open door (because he'll still knock, just watch him), Finn breaches the threshold of the Eye's office with only a small adjustment of the glasses he still wears. "Good evening, Cian," he murmurs.
Clearing his throat and tapping on the open door (because he'll still knock, just watch him), Finn breaches the threshold of the Eye's office with only a small adjustment of the glasses he still wears. "Good evening, Cian," he murmurs.
now all my stories have been told; except for one
