[OPEN] there is a light that i leave on

[heirring]

WHO: Wysteria, Marcoulf, Flint and OPEN
WHAT: Open post/catch-all/buries myself in top levels
WHEN: Harvestmere
WHERE: Kirkwall and misc
NOTES: Prose or brackets are a-okay. Feel free to hit me up on DM or discord if you want something specific that isn't here. Just posting a wildcard and winging it is awesome too.

Comments

[katabasis]

There's no semblance of it to be found in him. Not today. If he'd been in possession of any trace of doubt, it had been as the Walrus had first passed into the unfamiliar waters of the Waking Sea, guided by outdated charts through its dreadful irregular channels, and it had felt something like sailing down the throat of a world built on making it infinitely clear that it had no interest making a place for them; weeks ago, as the Inquisition's forces had made their way to Minrathous; or early yesterday in Kirkwall before he'd resolved on this conference between them. Today, he had risen certain. Give the two of them a few moments in conversation with a fixed point on the horizon and agreement between them and they would find a path forward. He has committed himself to that.

This will work.

He doesn't grin at Silver, but the sensation of it flashes in his face. That belief turns him bright and sharp, all adamant momentum and wildly unsatisfied. Thrilled by it. For a moment, it's as if he's running toward two inexplicably equal things - undecided which he means to chase, but certain of his speed and footing. And-- Then Flint straightens from this, and it isn't a disappointment to do it (two inexplicably equal things). The conspiracy curve of his shoulders shakes free as his hand returns to tiller and sheet. The cleat is undone. The sail is trimmed in consideration for wind and direction.

In the cutting cold, the skiff heads up into the weather.