Shoot The Messenger

Remi opened the door (much to Sam's despair) and looked for once not entirely lost and dismayed; he was sleepy and almost, for a moment, Sam could pretend he was the old Remi, the one he wrote about in his diaries that told jokes and made him golden feathers. Though he'd messed that up, hadn't he? Just like he was about to again. "I hope...I hope I didn't wake you up. But I have something to tell you. It's about The Voice, and the blight. I.." He looked around himself at the street. Did he want to go inside? Was he really scared Remi would hurt him...? After the claw marks had been left in his door, perhaps a little, but blurting out what he had to say in the middle of the street seemed more dangerous. "Can I come in...? B-but. Before I do...I.." Suddenly, unwillingly, he gave out a sobbing gasp, and quickly drew it back in, looking ashamed of himself. It wasn't his moment to cry. "Can you promise me you won't...you won't like what I'm going to say, but please don't...p-punish me for it." Samuel I'm starting to wake from silent sleep I'm starting to break and I can grieve