3 we daren’t go a-hunting?
"What," You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your own voice sounds shrill and unreal. "What the fuck was that?"
There's silence, ringing louder than any noise you've ever heard.
"That," He says, his shoulders lowering "was a fucking disaster. Hopefully they won't hold it against me too hard since you stabbed him and I didn't; but I guess asking you to house me here isn't going to delay the inevitable after all. Figures he would breach the rules of hospitality specifically to get me back. Desperate, much?"
You're still blinking back tears, still trying to pull air into your lungs. His words sink in slowly, too slowly. "What?"
His face softens, not in the malleable way of reality cracking under the strain, but in a way almost human. "I'm sorry." He says, standing up and dusting his hands off. "I should explain. Uh. If you could like, brush aside some of the salt? It hurts me to touch it."
