Farw Chlandra
"Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing can ever be made."
--Immanuel Kant
Day and night held difference above ground. It couldn't be seen but it could be felt -- one was warmer, one was colder. Down here underground, he learned that there is no day and there is no night. There is only the constant temperature and the constant hard surface of rock.
And constant shadow.
He remained down here with his mind roiling. He wanted to go back with Cinder, wanted to return to the Holding Houses but could not. not until he was sure he could get there on his own.
Not until he was sure he wouldn't be killed on-sight.
So there he remained with his thoughts. When he heard 'Nathan's footsteps, he found himself glad of her presence. He'd gotten used to being alone, had been used to it for a long time now but company was a welcome thing.
They spoke well into the night. he asked questions. She asked questions. He silently basked in her company and briefly let himself believe that maybe he wasn't alone.
The faith was still a shredded thing and fell easily under the glare of psychotic eyes.
--------------------
He was exhausted. The exhaustion had become familiar. The disorientation had become expected. Still, he despised it. He despised it and the Hunter far worse than most things.
He could deal with what was suggested to him -- it didn't mean he had to give up on anything, even a few humans.
It didn't mean he trusted but it didn't mean he gave up.
It always got dark before the light came.
Artyr's words from so many years ago came back to whisper in his mind as he lay on the stone ground. His mind had slowly cleared and was once again glad for not being entirely alone.
Johnathan and Renne spoke for another few minutes, trading a moment of happiness in the dark.
He fell asleep with dark thoughts dancing in his mind and a promise in what was left of his heart.
He'd do the right thing.
"Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing can ever be made."
--Immanuel Kant
Day and night held difference above ground. It couldn't be seen but it could be felt -- one was warmer, one was colder. Down here underground, he learned that there is no day and there is no night. There is only the constant temperature and the constant hard surface of rock.
And constant shadow.
He remained down here with his mind roiling. He wanted to go back with Cinder, wanted to return to the Holding Houses but could not. not until he was sure he could get there on his own.
Not until he was sure he wouldn't be killed on-sight.
So there he remained with his thoughts. When he heard 'Nathan's footsteps, he found himself glad of her presence. He'd gotten used to being alone, had been used to it for a long time now but company was a welcome thing.
They spoke well into the night. he asked questions. She asked questions. He silently basked in her company and briefly let himself believe that maybe he wasn't alone.
The faith was still a shredded thing and fell easily under the glare of psychotic eyes.
--------------------
He was exhausted. The exhaustion had become familiar. The disorientation had become expected. Still, he despised it. He despised it and the Hunter far worse than most things.
He could deal with what was suggested to him -- it didn't mean he had to give up on anything, even a few humans.
It didn't mean he trusted but it didn't mean he gave up.
It always got dark before the light came.
Artyr's words from so many years ago came back to whisper in his mind as he lay on the stone ground. His mind had slowly cleared and was once again glad for not being entirely alone.
Johnathan and Renne spoke for another few minutes, trading a moment of happiness in the dark.
He fell asleep with dark thoughts dancing in his mind and a promise in what was left of his heart.
He'd do the right thing.