ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย humans remain one of the simplest creatures to lure.
all he needs to do is wait for the archer to fall asleep and the rest is history. as paimon guides a sleeping daryl through the woods, weaving him through trees with the acute awareness he'd display when awake, it takes but a snap of his fingers to have him jolt awake in the real world.
unluckily for the guardian, the demon makes the transition from dream to reality all too seamless, his false pursuit of a peter just always out of sight translating well as paimon borrows his host's voice and beckons him deeper into the dark.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ' daryl, pleaseโ i'mโ my legโ kโkeep following my voice...! '
eventually, through the thorn-ridden undergrowth and the unforgiving bark path, he emerges into a clearing that does not look like it belongs. almost peaceful, a gentle fog rolling in that gives the space an ethereal glow; the moonlight an unnaturally big spotlight directly above.
no peter, naturally, but something else directly to daryl's left: a shrike perched in the nearest tree, its resting place not too far from the man's head. it watches him with a beady eye, head on a tilt that gives the impression it's seeing him. its white feathers glisten like jewels in the moonlight, its black tail seeming as dark as night itself.
"so i might have told a teensy little lie," the bird says, and no sooner does it speak is it disappearing in an animated POOF! of black smoke. from behind daryl: "hoh-lee! it's you, it's really you!"
airborne is the 'man' that greets him, and comically too; one leg tossed over the other as if reclining on a well-loved armchair, arms tucked behind his head as if he's never experienced worry in his life. a small crown floats above his head.
"oh you're going to have to forgive me if i'm a little starstruck. this is SO. exciting for me! i mean, DARYL DIXON, in the flฬตeฬตsฬทhฬท!ฬต"
@aintashes / you have fooled you absolute buffoon
