Stephen's voice is mostly free of breath-drawing pause when he replies, whether through the help of advice that he may or may not have taken or his own tried practice, but that doesn't do anything to rid it of the hushed tension as he replies in a murmur, ] I can take a wild guess.
[ He hasn't seen it yet. Somehow he's ducked away at every turn, kept himself busy with other terrors long enough that this is the first trace he's caught of his own. And there's still no knowing for certain that it's his, no telling that some shapeshifting, voice-stealing thing in the bloody night isn't out there twisting his fear to its own ends—
That's when the knowledge hits. It comes for both of them as the creature in the road ahead stands in quiet waiting, still some way out of sight: the undeniable dread of death. Death is waiting for them up ahead. Death, inevitable and terrible, final even in impermanence. And for any prone to laying down their life for others, another whispering feeling creeps along on the belly of death's great beast: Whatever it takes. This is the only way.
Stephen takes a sharp breath in, hit so hard and fast by that old familiar conclusion that reason rears up to complain - why? - and he tunes his focus as resolutely as he can back on Outis. ]
We need to go. Now.
[ He'll take suggestions. He's as close to helpless as he's ever been, he knows it, and if that means he has to follow he's happy to defer. ]
no subject
Stephen's voice is mostly free of breath-drawing pause when he replies, whether through the help of advice that he may or may not have taken or his own tried practice, but that doesn't do anything to rid it of the hushed tension as he replies in a murmur, ] I can take a wild guess.
[ He hasn't seen it yet. Somehow he's ducked away at every turn, kept himself busy with other terrors long enough that this is the first trace he's caught of his own. And there's still no knowing for certain that it's his, no telling that some shapeshifting, voice-stealing thing in the bloody night isn't out there twisting his fear to its own ends—
That's when the knowledge hits. It comes for both of them as the creature in the road ahead stands in quiet waiting, still some way out of sight: the undeniable dread of death. Death is waiting for them up ahead. Death, inevitable and terrible, final even in impermanence. And for any prone to laying down their life for others, another whispering feeling creeps along on the belly of death's great beast: Whatever it takes. This is the only way.
Stephen takes a sharp breath in, hit so hard and fast by that old familiar conclusion that reason rears up to complain - why? - and he tunes his focus as resolutely as he can back on Outis. ]
We need to go. Now.
[ He'll take suggestions. He's as close to helpless as he's ever been, he knows it, and if that means he has to follow he's happy to defer. ]