aliveinabox:
“It is!” Rosencrantz insisted, glancing around the place nervously, his eyes darting from object to object. He started pacing slightly, wringing his hands, restless, agitated- panicked.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, o-out of our heads, over our depths!” The other man stuttered slightly, his words getting muddled as he became more and more hysterical.
“Oh!” He stomped slightly on the deck, frustrated with himself and his jumbled words.
❝ rosencrantz. . . ❞ guildenstern’s voice was GENTLE, eyeing the pacing man. the panic was evident in the tone he used & the jumbled phrases. a sigh fell from parted lips after a couple moments of pacing. eyes averted to the sails above once assuming that the pacing would only CONTINUE. once before, hamlet had been at the mercy of the elements. now ? the pair was thrown into the mix WITH hamlet. oh, how the tables had turned. . .
the stomp broke him from the trance the boat had on him, attention SNAPPING back to rosencrantz. so, he was wrong about the life of the pacing. that was FINE. it gave him someone to talk to. then again, he was never alone. he always had rosencrantz by his side & as frustrating as he could be, he was still the closest friend he had --- literally & figuratively.
❝ we’ll be alright. we simply need to deliver the young lord & we can go home. it’s as simple as that, ❞ he assured, the corner of his lips curving up ever so slightly to offer even a HINT of comfort.
