and we'll forget this solemn day, we'll always be young again
“So I know, I know, that it’s a bit of a trek which is the only reason I didn’t bring…” Varus pauses to count all the fingers on his metal hand before he flashes a fanged grin over toward Isla. “Like twelve lanterns? Probably more but, this’ll have to do.” He’s got one small lantern hanging from his elbow by the handle, lingering on the Outskirts to see who all else have arrived. He doesn’t feel like diving into the center of the event, and so he picks a branch off to the side to hang the lantern on – a lantern designed florally and with lace, one to mimic the softness of his mother, before he’s turning back toward Isla, not letting the somberness of the Festival get to him.
He reaches for her to thread his fingers into hers, pulling her close beside him. “Think they’ve got a game of horseshoes if you want to try and have a repeat of the sand darts competition.” He wiggles his brows playfully toward her.
He reaches for her to thread his fingers into hers, pulling her close beside him. “Think they’ve got a game of horseshoes if you want to try and have a repeat of the sand darts competition.” He wiggles his brows playfully toward her.
VARUS
