October
It twists easily, groaning a warm brassy sound, the door pushing open almost invitingly. That's the most foreboding thing of all, you think. How the door seems to welcome you in to a place you know you shouldn't be. Hesitant as you are, once you see Cian's shoes on the ornate rug, and the man wearing them prone on the ground, you breeze past Finn without thought for the Spyglass or the consequences. Not even your instrument is on your mind, just the health of Cian, who is nothing more to you right now than any other patient.
"Cian? Can you hear me?" You ask, dropping to his side and reaching toward his neck to find a pulse. Finding one, a fairly strong one actually, you sigh slightly with relief. "It's Doctor Hart. Cian?" Holding his cheeks between your palms, you wait to see if he'll respond on his own or if you need to take more drastic measures.
"Cian? Can you hear me?" You ask, dropping to his side and reaching toward his neck to find a pulse. Finding one, a fairly strong one actually, you sigh slightly with relief. "It's Doctor Hart. Cian?" Holding his cheeks between your palms, you wait to see if he'll respond on his own or if you need to take more drastic measures.
with illusions of someday cast in a golden light
