FINN
Finn does not think anyone has ever complimented his name at all, so they make quite the pair out here on the sands. He cannot stop his mind from whirring, his assumptions and predictions collapsing in on themselves like a house of cards. If Amalia is here (and oh boy is that an interesting one, standing before a woman rumoured to have been face to face with Vi himself) then she is not in the Hollowed Grounds. And that means Dorian...
Is on a wild goose chase of Finn’s own making. He knows he will feel the sting of that slap (mental, physical, emotional - he doesn’t know yet) in the near future. Aware, suddenly, that she has asked him a question, he gives a quiet nod, a confirmation that he is happy to sit. Suddenly being on his feet feels like too much of a burden.
”Only a few days,” he says of his time in Torchline, sinking down onto the log and letting his tired eyes settle on the encroaching waves. ”I was trying to concentrate on... not concentrating,” he murmurs slowly, as if only coming to that realisation himself. ”What about you? Do you live here?” How wrong has he been?
Is on a wild goose chase of Finn’s own making. He knows he will feel the sting of that slap (mental, physical, emotional - he doesn’t know yet) in the near future. Aware, suddenly, that she has asked him a question, he gives a quiet nod, a confirmation that he is happy to sit. Suddenly being on his feet feels like too much of a burden.
”Only a few days,” he says of his time in Torchline, sinking down onto the log and letting his tired eyes settle on the encroaching waves. ”I was trying to concentrate on... not concentrating,” he murmurs slowly, as if only coming to that realisation himself. ”What about you? Do you live here?” How wrong has he been?
