memory’s so treacherous
”Ah, of course.” There must be eons of things that mortals don’t know about, and Finn wonders, however briefly, what it would be like to view Safrin with his glasses. He tries not to linger on that for long, though - he has lost the spectacles, and for as much hardship and torment that they caused him, he can’t deny that he misses them. Then again, it wouldn’t be getting better if everything problematic was so readily available, would it?
He doesn’t know what to make of the gesture to seat himself again, but the Spyglass (obviously) doesn’t decline, and he sinks back down where he was previously, his guitar in his lap. He isn’t looking at the owl, his eyes on Safrin as she continues. Finn frowns as he thinks, and there’s something like shame in his expression when he finally does speak again.
”For you, I suppose... I would ask for forgiveness,” he says quietly. ”When I was a child, I stole from one of your temples. Everything was returned when I was caught, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” And scars on his back.
He doesn’t know what to make of the gesture to seat himself again, but the Spyglass (obviously) doesn’t decline, and he sinks back down where he was previously, his guitar in his lap. He isn’t looking at the owl, his eyes on Safrin as she continues. Finn frowns as he thinks, and there’s something like shame in his expression when he finally does speak again.
”For you, I suppose... I would ask for forgiveness,” he says quietly. ”When I was a child, I stole from one of your temples. Everything was returned when I was caught, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” And scars on his back.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
