when you bury your pain
The question takes him by surprise, Finn blinking himself out of his moment of sudden hyper-focus to glance sideways at Remi, brows furrowing together. For a second it’s like he’s trying to remember how old he is, and eventually it clicks in place. ”I was thirty, last Deepfrost,” he says softly. ”Why?” Why does it matter, he means. Are he and Remi of an age? Potentially born in the same season?
Swallowing hard, he presses forward on the trail as they speak, burying his hands in his pockets. He feels cold suddenly, in a way he can’t quite vocalise. ”All the time,” he admits, crouching to the ground as if trying to separate something in the grass. ”I don’t know how far she is.” He sighs. ”I’ve tested things, over years... I think it’s twelve hours, give or take, before an aura fades. So she’s been here fairly recently.”
He smiles to himself. ”Torchline is busy with it.”
Swallowing hard, he presses forward on the trail as they speak, burying his hands in his pockets. He feels cold suddenly, in a way he can’t quite vocalise. ”All the time,” he admits, crouching to the ground as if trying to separate something in the grass. ”I don’t know how far she is.” He sighs. ”I’ve tested things, over years... I think it’s twelve hours, give or take, before an aura fades. So she’s been here fairly recently.”
He smiles to himself. ”Torchline is busy with it.”
THE SPYGLASS
you only strengthen its roots
