wythersake: (sitting_2)
blonde billy #2 ([personal profile] wythersake) wrote 2020-02-25 02:42 am (UTC)

[ Ah. ]

Imagine the devastation.

[ Whatever this is, they aren't far from his room. He doesn't shut the door. They've no good reason to speak behind those. They won't be overheard: Leander is ill; the elf, too.

But there are appearances to mind. Courtesies.

It's tidy. Bare territory. The books, the leaves, the pins and pressed wings sprawl floors away and below; confined. His desk in the Infirmary is a perpetual tumble, here rests a lone book of stars. A locked chest. The boards pale about a plot of undarkened wood: There was another bed here.
]

We're well-supplied, given recent contributions. [ As Flint must know. I confessed it to the Division Heads. Isaac passes the chair for a poker. Chooses his words, ] I have concerns.

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