[Whose fault indeed? Was it the one who bit him? Or the one who bit that person? Was it chance or error or divine intervention? Was it whatever or whoever had given him the strength to wake from the sludge in his mind and choose to keep any sort of distance at all?
The door cracks open. If his heart could beat, it would hammer. The closest he's been, up until now, was a bearded man, a half-insane survivalist that got the biggest bragging rights of all, and all he'd done was ask for directions and feel stupidly giddy for days that he'd managed to pass as human for the very first time.
He climbs to his feet, bringing with him the little paper bits left out, the marker. He holds them close, like a lifeline, then steps inside. She's close enough to read the band patches on his jeans. She can count the arrows in his quiver. She can see that his hair is long enough to slip out from the hood, that the black is discolored to grey, but not quite there.
Besides all his nerves, he also feels immensely awkward. What... does he do now...?]
no subject
The door cracks open. If his heart could beat, it would hammer. The closest he's been, up until now, was a bearded man, a half-insane survivalist that got the biggest bragging rights of all, and all he'd done was ask for directions and feel stupidly giddy for days that he'd managed to pass as human for the very first time.
He climbs to his feet, bringing with him the little paper bits left out, the marker. He holds them close, like a lifeline, then steps inside. She's close enough to read the band patches on his jeans. She can count the arrows in his quiver. She can see that his hair is long enough to slip out from the hood, that the black is discolored to grey, but not quite there.
Besides all his nerves, he also feels immensely awkward. What... does he do now...?]
So... which room... are you taking...?