FINN
and into the forest i go,
Finn would also prefer not to think about it that way, honestly. He's staring into his second drink, listening to the gentle tapping of Talyson's fingers against his mug when the other man speaks again. "Ah," he says, almost apologetically, "I didn't realise you had met her personally as well. I hope I haven't soured your opinion." The last thing he wants to do is to get into Safrin's bad books when he isn't even in her presence.
The gossip is a nice distraction at least, however disturbing, and the way Finn's brows furrow tell that he's already thinking of the implications of fingers-for-toes in far too much detail. "I had not," he confesses. "How did he get anything done? And where did he put his shoes?"
The gossip is a nice distraction at least, however disturbing, and the way Finn's brows furrow tell that he's already thinking of the implications of fingers-for-toes in far too much detail. "I had not," he confesses. "How did he get anything done? And where did he put his shoes?"
to lose my mind and find my soul
