FINN
and into the forest i go,
”Hmm...” It’s unlike Finn to be so purposefully silent, but the reason for it is quite evident. His jaw has clenched too, and it’s a soft nod of agreement that he throws her way, eyes on the cobbled streets before them. ”Do you find it sad, that it is only now that they are losing their own, that they want to try and fight them back?” he wonders, following Amalia’s uneven footsteps wherever she wants to lead them. Finn knows only the way back to his rooms, after all.
He stands by as she makes the rest of her deliveries, perusing stalls and watching the clouds pass overhead, leaving a chill sun in its wake and wet coats upon their shoulders. So it’s not so surprising that he’s distracted when they find themselves down a dinky side street, Finn refocusing with an apology already forming on his lips - then, of course, he sees the shop ahead. The chords reach his ears.
And the Spyglass is already stepping forward and past her to gaze in through the windows, the tension wiped from his expression; he’s crouching, even, to better see an exquisitely crafted violin. At least, he thinks it’s a violin, given that the Hollowed Grounds are probably a bit behind the curve when it comes to these things. ”Thank you,” he breathes, straightening up and offering Amalia a smile that seems to shine out of him. One that lifts the rain clouds and strips away the years. ”Would you like to go inside with me?”
He stands by as she makes the rest of her deliveries, perusing stalls and watching the clouds pass overhead, leaving a chill sun in its wake and wet coats upon their shoulders. So it’s not so surprising that he’s distracted when they find themselves down a dinky side street, Finn refocusing with an apology already forming on his lips - then, of course, he sees the shop ahead. The chords reach his ears.
And the Spyglass is already stepping forward and past her to gaze in through the windows, the tension wiped from his expression; he’s crouching, even, to better see an exquisitely crafted violin. At least, he thinks it’s a violin, given that the Hollowed Grounds are probably a bit behind the curve when it comes to these things. ”Thank you,” he breathes, straightening up and offering Amalia a smile that seems to shine out of him. One that lifts the rain clouds and strips away the years. ”Would you like to go inside with me?”
to lose my mind and find my soul
