@folliesofmiceandmen / darcy location: his homely treehouse
"As if shit wasn't fucked enough," her ususl standpoint taking a rather volatile head to her frustration as she ascended into her second home. beyond the skirts of any jackal territory, there was no place that fallen felt more comfortable than anywhere darcy was - as an extension, the treehouse felt like a warm hug. she'd flung open the trapdoor with the least amount of warning and all but launched herself into a smattering of cushions that held an array of smells she didn't even think to question anymore, "more bugs. more fucking bugs, darc. i can feel them, literally crawing all over me." which, was a fated exaggeration - fallen had come out rather unscathed from the whole ordeal, avoiding the market like a fucking plague had been her saving grace for one. oh the irony, she thought to herself, raising her head just barely to pinpoint him in the wide open room just in time to see him pop a berry. "how original, it's always bugs."
