you are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world
Finn is movement in the stillness, the Spyglass quietly clearing his throat and rubbing at the back of his neck as silence stretches thin across the Eye's office. He plucks a stray thread from the sleeve of his blazer and shifts his weight to the opposite foot when, finally, Cian replies. And it isn't the smooth reproach or sly insults that Finn has come to expect; it's a philosophical question, rather, one that he can't feel out properly. If it's a trap, then Finn is naturally going to fall right into it.
"I trust my own senses before I trust any higher power," he says softly. "Though lately I am struggling to place my belief in even them." Too much has happened; too many things seen and unseen, too many slips in reason, too many trips to the medical centre. "Why do you ask...?"
"I trust my own senses before I trust any higher power," he says softly. "Though lately I am struggling to place my belief in even them." Too much has happened; too many things seen and unseen, too many slips in reason, too many trips to the medical centre. "Why do you ask...?"
and that, I believe
is why you are in so much pain
FINN
