It's bad luck to spill too much of your blood in the same place —
That sounds, alright, sounds a little prancy. But it also sounds the sort of thing you'd say while squinting one-eyed with your cape blowing in the wind, and if Finch doesn't see the appeal in going on to only see half of life (look how pleasant it made Iorveth) he's still eighteen and,
Maybe a bit impressionable.
"No," He starts, dragged out of thought. The needle jumps and drags a new, unecessary hole through an elbow. "It's only, my girl —"
Boy, that's easier to say when Fern isn't around to contest it. A guilty pang all the same. Half a lie's still half a lie (and look how pleasant that makes anyone).
"— Well, someone had to look after her. See how well that's gone."
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That sounds, alright, sounds a little prancy. But it also sounds the sort of thing you'd say while squinting one-eyed with your cape blowing in the wind, and if Finch doesn't see the appeal in going on to only see half of life (look how pleasant it made Iorveth) he's still eighteen and,
Maybe a bit impressionable.
"No," He starts, dragged out of thought. The needle jumps and drags a new, unecessary hole through an elbow. "It's only, my girl —"
Boy, that's easier to say when Fern isn't around to contest it. A guilty pang all the same. Half a lie's still half a lie (and look how pleasant that makes anyone).
"— Well, someone had to look after her. See how well that's gone."
What an interesting hole. He stabs another.