there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in
Henry received Wessex's request and pondered over it for some time, quietly, in his temporary living situation in the domiciles. Some open room, stocked with standard necessities, but it would never be his home. Nothing would be. He sits there, night after night, wondering where he went wrong, too.
So it is not with light spirits that he arrives several minutes late to the Theskyra House, where he's let in (because he's expected). He's dressed in clean clothes, at least, no more soot and ash covering him after desperate searches for anything, anything left of his family or the farm. But there is nothing left.
He enters the room and spies that he is the last one to arrive, and dips his head in greeting to both Bastien and Wessex. "Sorry to be late," he says, voice hoarse.
He simply finds a seat somewhere adjacent to Bastien, eyeing the way the other man also appears to be in a bad state. He needn't wonder at why; there is plenty reason to not be okay. He chews his lip before looking up towards Wessex, sighing quietly with the effort it takes.
So it is not with light spirits that he arrives several minutes late to the Theskyra House, where he's let in (because he's expected). He's dressed in clean clothes, at least, no more soot and ash covering him after desperate searches for anything, anything left of his family or the farm. But there is nothing left.
He enters the room and spies that he is the last one to arrive, and dips his head in greeting to both Bastien and Wessex. "Sorry to be late," he says, voice hoarse.
He simply finds a seat somewhere adjacent to Bastien, eyeing the way the other man also appears to be in a bad state. He needn't wonder at why; there is plenty reason to not be okay. He chews his lip before looking up towards Wessex, sighing quietly with the effort it takes.
HENRY
