This is not the first time he's stood near to John Silver and watched him slice open his skin and out his blood to work. But it is, he thinks, the first time he has felt now the world prickles in response to it. Its small hairs shiver. Skin tightens in anticipation. Here is the taste of something sharp on the tongue, the thud of a pulse fluttering against the shape of a heavy hand.
If he moved his fingers in the right arrangement or angles his body in such a way, he might almost run his fingers against the liquid form of the thing that answers when John calls it name while it passes nearby.
Stood in the center of the alley as if to block any view of the work being done in it (no one is curious in this place; it is a matter of self preservation), he is as directed: a half step beyond the scope of Bertalan's glossy and dialated vision. But the impulse to watch (feel) the thing that John puts into place deters him from moving further.
Instead, he absently wipes the sacrificial tool on the thigh of his trousers (so much for preserving them from blood) and finds a place in his belt for the stolen knife. That, too, they will likely find some use for.
no subject
If he moved his fingers in the right arrangement or angles his body in such a way, he might almost run his fingers against the liquid form of the thing that answers when John calls it name while it passes nearby.
Stood in the center of the alley as if to block any view of the work being done in it (no one is curious in this place; it is a matter of self preservation), he is as directed: a half step beyond the scope of Bertalan's glossy and dialated vision. But the impulse to watch (feel) the thing that John puts into place deters him from moving further.
Instead, he absently wipes the sacrificial tool on the thigh of his trousers (so much for preserving them from blood) and finds a place in his belt for the stolen knife. That, too, they will likely find some use for.