Cian
On a gathering storm comes
A tall handsome man
A tall handsome man
Cian studies the man before him. The way his eyes flit and float, how his lips twitch with words unspoken. How he's both tense and ghostly beneath Cian's hands. Tears are replaced by blood, neither of which the Eye is surprised by, or blames the Spyglass for. Finn would either rise to this occasion, or he'd have fallen. That he rose, higher than anyone might have expected him to, is something that the Eye deeply respects and appreciates. Though there is not a single part of him that feels as though he's pushed Finn too far. That this was all perhaps a grotesque oversight on his part.
"Yes, you can." Cian replies, removing just one of his hands, waiting to see if Finn will stutter forward and need the other there for balance. "But Finn?" The Eye raises a brow, his cold blue stare unwavering. "Get yourself checked out back home. Physically. And when you do go the Grounds, keep your distance from her." His eyes slip to the rocky scorch marks in the earth, where Tanau was freed, before moving back to Finn knowingly. "From all of them. Until we know more."
"Yes, you can." Cian replies, removing just one of his hands, waiting to see if Finn will stutter forward and need the other there for balance. "But Finn?" The Eye raises a brow, his cold blue stare unwavering. "Get yourself checked out back home. Physically. And when you do go the Grounds, keep your distance from her." His eyes slip to the rocky scorch marks in the earth, where Tanau was freed, before moving back to Finn knowingly. "From all of them. Until we know more."
In a dusty black coat with
A red right hand
A red right hand
