memory’s so treacherous
Finn blinks, because obviously he doesn't understand what she's trying to say. But she's clearly trying to communicate, and so rather than showing frustration, the Spyglass can't help but delve deeper. "So you do want me to tell people about this? How about you click your beak when we're in agreement," he suggests. "Should I tell Cian?"
As for the spreading of her wings, the Spyglass flashes a boyish smile her way. "Alas I cannot fly," he says. "But... you can. Would you be able to get me the things I need, do you think?" He tilts his head. "My compass, for example?" He hesitates, about his glasses. Because he does not want them, not on the surface. But beneath, in the deep truths of his heart, he knows he would put them on again in an instant under the guise of necessity.
As for the spreading of her wings, the Spyglass flashes a boyish smile her way. "Alas I cannot fly," he says. "But... you can. Would you be able to get me the things I need, do you think?" He tilts his head. "My compass, for example?" He hesitates, about his glasses. Because he does not want them, not on the surface. But beneath, in the deep truths of his heart, he knows he would put them on again in an instant under the guise of necessity.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
