[THE CHILD!!! need to protect] "Hello? are you alright? Oh deary you look like you're cold, come on, take my coat, there you go."
“Why -- who... who are you?” He steps back in caution, dark eyes widening.
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

if i look back, i am lost

No title available
Sade Olutola
No title available

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
$LAYYYTER

tannertan36
Misplaced Lens Cap

ellievsbear

No title available

No title available
ojovivo
NASA

pixel skylines

Kiana Khansmith
h
Monterey Bay Aquarium

seen from Canada

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from China
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Argentina

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Netherlands
seen from Portugal

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Argentina
seen from Bangladesh

seen from United States
@tcmcnos
[THE CHILD!!! need to protect] "Hello? are you alright? Oh deary you look like you're cold, come on, take my coat, there you go."
“Why -- who... who are you?” He steps back in caution, dark eyes widening.
The snow leopard Shifter was a natural, Percival sucked a breath in awe at the sheer implication of Credence’s natural magical reserve and the sort of will power it would have taken to suppress that. Magic, its manifestation, and development, all told a lot about a person’s nature, after all. Percival’s own had been wild and free in his childhood, wandless magic along with every other Aboriginal people of the tribe, until strong protective instincts and demands of the environment honed his magic into this tightly coiled power that it was today, a silent and powerful fighter of the night like his panther Shifter form.
It was clear, that Credence had so intensely suppressed his own magic and nature, that when it all came to manifest, nothing could be flashier than snow leopard with spots that moved like storm clouds in the sky, and Obscurial situation - so far beyond any Obscurial case in the records known to wixen. Timid and powerful, both like his snow leopard nature, Credence embodied a plethora of contradictions. It was far different from Percival’s way of honing his own magic, despite both being wandless - Percival realized that he had no idea how to teach this big kid.
Instead, Percival gestured, “Eat, you’re welcomed to, any time in this house.” As a demonstration that it was nothing to panic over, Percival also wandlessly gently shut the cabinets and ladled soup for Credence.
As Credence ate his meal, he allowed himself the luxury to eat slowly, rather than so quickly it was as if he were hiding the fact he needed it at all, such as it would be around Mary.
The soup was warm; small aspects such as this brought so much awe into his heart that Mr. Graves was so very good to him. He could almost cry.
“Mr. Graves? Are you going to be the Mac... the...” what was it called again? “the Medusa... Maloosa... Ma... cusa... president? You... should be.”
Yes, he liked Mr. Graves. A lot. He was nice. He was good.
And he was a witch.
Maybe I can be a good witch too.
Sometimes it felt good to be feared... but he didn’t want to be like himself -- he wanted to be like Mr. Graves!
“Do you think I can be a good witch?”
And a good kitty?
"Mr. Graves." Credence speaks softly, and when he lifts his gaze he offers him a bouquet of roses.
Percival had taken the both of them out to dinner for the Valentine’s Day, marking this a most significant occasion - the first time Credence and Percival could put aside all their inner terrors over still possibly judgmental surroundings (despite wizard establishments less likely to do so, being persecuted people themselves), and being together as lovers in public.
Credence constantly surprised Percival with his incredible bravery, in contrast with the younger man’s still-timid demeanor. Percival couldn’t help but let his lips tilt up, warmth softening his gaze, before he put his hand over Credence’s hand. He couldn’t help a quick, alert glance-around to make sure no one else was going to harass them, before turning that warm smile back to Credence, accepting the bouquet.
“Sweetheart, you surprise me at every turn.”
Percival flinched - he’d known Legilimency at its best and worst, and he hadn’t expected it here, with Credence, actively pressing an image into Percival’s mind without warning, as though a casual feat. Percival was certain he felt no other presence around, it had to be Credence doing this, and such an intimate knowledge of Percival’s bathroom, of Percival’s expressions and skin.
Percival couldn’t help but look a tad shocked for a moment, eyes widen at Credence momentarily, caught off guard, Occlumency hadn’t even thrown up. He was certain that Credence had no idea what Credence had just done, the potency of such an innocent act of affections. It was — it should be something to fear, and Percival knew how Credence felt about being different, but Credence had used it so affectionately, Percival couldn’t let his partner fall into a terrified spiral of agitation again.
Percival reached out and grabbed for Credence’s hand again - something they’d been daringly doing in public - gentle enough, however, to signify his warm intentions. “Credence, you startled me. I didn’t know you were able to press on my mind like that.” an explanation first, because Percival wanted Credence to not have to guess what Percival’s reaction had meant. “Let’s go home, then.” Percival gently squeezed Credence’s hand, “You can show me the candles.”
“Mr. Graves,” he whispered breathlessly, confused and hurt by the look that had come over his love’s face even if for but a moment.
Something he’d done had been wrong. He’d been trying so hard to be what Mr. Graves wanted him to be -- a little more confidence in his powers instead of afraid. But now...
He rubbed at his tears with his free hand and stood a little straighter, looking away from Percival and trying to somewhat smile.
At home he went to show Graves his shopping bag; he pulled from it his new candles as well as the crystals he’d bought that were meant to help him focus his energy.
autumn/halloween sentence starters! 🍂🍁🎃
masterlist of autumn and halloween themed sentence starters! some are original, but most are collected from other posts.
❝ i made pumpkin cookies! want to try one? ❞
❝ did you cut yourself carving the pumpkin? let me see it. ❞
❝ stay still i’m almost done with your costume. ❞
❝ let’s paint pumpkins. ❞
❝ hurry up! we’re going to be late for the costume party! ❞
❝ help me decorate! ❞
❝ let’s open some windows, okay? ❞
❝ it’s starting to rain… ❞
❝ bring a jacket! ❞
❝ do we really need to go to a pumpkin patch? can’t we just buy one at the store? ❞
❝ let’s go pick pumpkins! ❞
❝ it’s chilly out here, you need a coat. take mine. ❞
❝ you sound sick. are you sick? ❞
*sneeze* ❝ sorry, allergies. ❞
❝ wanna go out for halloween? ❞
❝ looks like it’s time to rake the leaves… ❞
❝ let’s go get hot chocolate then go for a walk. ❞
❝ let’s go trick-or-treating! ❞
❝ let’s go jump in the leaves! ❞
❝ come in here where it’s dry! ❞
❝ it’s dark?! already?! ❞
❝ ooh it’s chilly out. ❞
❝ please, enough with the pumpkin spice. ❞
❝ good morning. no, don’t get up, it’s raining, let’s stay in bed a little longer… ❞
❝ did you hear about the werewolf/vampire/witch roaming around this town on halloween night? ❞
❝ let’s go to the haunted house! oh, please, please, please, please?! ❞
❝ i don’t get scared. i’m practically fearless. ❞
❝ did you hear that? ❞
❝ we have to get out of here! ❞
❝ are you going to hide in my shoulder the whole time? or actually watch the movie? ❞
❝ i’m not going in a graveyard. ❞
❝ what did you get? ❞
❝ want to trade candy? ❞
❝ i got a rock. ❞
❝ don’t blame me! it was your idea to come in here! ❞
❝ what are you going as for halloween this year? ❞
❝ i just can’t wait for halloween! ❞
❝ you should totally buy that costume! ❞
❝ trick or treat! ❞
❝ happy halloween! ❞
❝ happy fall! ❞
❝ i wanna make sure that my jack-o-lantern is the best! ❞
❝ i’ll race you through the corn maze! ❞
❝ that guy in the gorilla costume has been following us for the past ten blocks. ❞
❝ aww come on! it was a prank! ❞
❝ please, please, PLEASE no scary movie marathon! ❞
❝ that wasn’t funny! ❞
❝ i keep tripping over my costume. ❞
❝ i’m not sure we should go down that street. ❞
❝ no fair! your costume is getting you more candy. ❞
❝ faster! we need to get to all of the houses! ❞
❝ forget being ‘too old’ to trick or treat. i’m doing this forever! ❞
❝ i don’t like these woods. ❞
❝ i just saw something! ❞
❝ look at that intestine cake! ❞
❝ i’m a real vampire. ❞
❝ do you think stuff really happens on halloween? like..supernatural stuff. ❞
❝ i made us matching costumes! ❞
❝ i think i just saw something move outside your window…is someone watching us? ❞
❝ you’re not going to make me carve this pumpkin all by myself, are you? ❞
❝ did you hear there’s a masquerade ball this halloween? let’s go! ❞
❝ you shouldn’t go out there! ❞
❝ s-scared? me? i’m not..scared. ❞
"Where are the turtles?"
❝The fire crabs? They’re right here, honey!❞
It’s thanks to Newt, of course, that Queenie ended up babysitting a box of baby fire crabs; strange creatures best described as spiky, jewelled tortoises.❝Ain’t they pretty?❞
“Mr. Graves said when it warms up we can go to the zoo.” Credence remarked quietly as he moved closer to kneel beside the box. “Hello crabs… What do fire crabs like?” he wondered, reaching to pat the one he thought looked a little more docile.
❝We’ll have to go on a day out some time soon too,❞ Queenie pondered. ❝The zoo too, or somewhere else?❞ Money was tight but what better way to spend it than on someone who deserved it, and needed such joy in his life?
❝Careful not to get burnt, Newt told me they can shoot flames outta their… Well, out of their tush.❞ This was sure to end in disaster! ❝They like coconut! Wanna help me feed ‘em some?❞
“Okay!” He very carefully started to pick them up and set them down outside their box. He didn’t understand why they were in a box. He wouldn’t want to be in a box. He watched in fascination as they wandered about on the carpet.
❝Teenie’s gonna kill me if those guys damage anything,❞ Queenie pointed out. Though she wasn’t doing anything to prevent it; far be it from her to stick by the rules. ❝You love creatures, don’tcha? We ought’ta get you a suitcase of your own, and make a Newt Junior outta you.❞
“Oh, I don’t know, that sounds like a lot... too much.” No, he couldn’t handle too many creatures. “I want... a dragon.” he decided. “A little dragon.”
The door opens and grey fog spills over the flooring, rolling forward until it gathers over your feet. Lights flicker and the windows are obscured with darkness. "Muffin, please," Credence says gently.
“Alright,” he blinked, a bit bewildered at the creepy fog. It was unnerving, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead he smiled brightly and nodded, “What sort Would you like?”
He approached the display case, looking over pastries and pointing out several different muffins he was curious about. “What is.. this one? And… that one? What is the red one? Is the other one chocolate? Mr. Graves sent me with money. He wants a dozen donuts, half chocolate and half glazed, for his office.” he said.
“Blueberry, bran with raisins, raspberry and those are chocolate muffins,” he listed, easily matching the ones to where he pointed with a cheerful smile. He was surprised at the order, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead, he nodded and grabbed a flat box to begin putting things in order, “Would he like shaped donuts or just the regular sort? I make them in shapes too.”
He clasped his hands together, anxiously picking at skin around his nails. He averted his gaze, shaking his head. He didn’t know. HE DIDN’T KNOW. All he could do was repeat himself, quicker, “Hewantsadozendonuts,halfchocolateandhalfglazed.”
He shivered, running his hands over his face as his eyes whited out ominously. His voice heightened in pitch, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He touched a hand to the glass. “I want… the chocolate muffin… please.” he whispered.
“It’s alright,” he assured hastily, unsure of why the young man in front of him panicked so badly. He wasn’t sure whether it was safe to touch or not, so he stayed where he was and waited for the panic to subside before moving. He packaged the muffin first and frowned thoughtfully before deciding to just go with his gut, “I’ll give you both. The plain ones aren’t as popular as the shaped ones and I make enough that I could life without a dozen donuts being sold. Think of it as you’re getting a free promotional from the bakery.”
“O-oh… thank you…” He took his muffin and went to sit and eat it while Jacob got all the donuts together. He ate slowly – a luxury he’d only recently become accustomed to, rather than eating as quickly as possible to conceal that he had eaten at all.
“I like muffins.”
He did. They were soft and warm and made him smile gently. After he threw away his napkin, he went to look at more of Jacob’s creations, and in an exertion of wandless and silent magic, he was shifting them around to fill in gaps and straighten up the pastries.
“I like muffins too,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as he carefully placed the donuts within the two boxes. One of dound donuts while the other were shaped like curled occamy, “my favorite are Paczki. Polish donuts. They were my grandma’s specialty. I learned everything I know on her knee.”
“Ciasteczka...” he said as he admired some cookies. “Lubię czytać... po polsku...”
Mary Lou had taught him to be ashamed of his strange ability to know things he ought not know, but Mr. Graves was encouraging him there was nothing wrong with it. Yes, it was odd he picked up Polish easily during his library trips while he struggled to read well in English, but it was not a reason to hate himself.
“Maybe my grandma was a witch.” he mused. It was heartbreaking he’d never really know, would he?
"Where are the turtles?"
❝The fire crabs? They’re right here, honey!❞
It’s thanks to Newt, of course, that Queenie ended up babysitting a box of baby fire crabs; strange creatures best described as spiky, jewelled tortoises.❝Ain’t they pretty?❞
“Mr. Graves said when it warms up we can go to the zoo.” Credence remarked quietly as he moved closer to kneel beside the box. “Hello crabs… What do fire crabs like?” he wondered, reaching to pat the one he thought looked a little more docile.
❝We’ll have to go on a day out some time soon too,❞ Queenie pondered. ❝The zoo too, or somewhere else?❞ Money was tight but what better way to spend it than on someone who deserved it, and needed such joy in his life?
❝Careful not to get burnt, Newt told me they can shoot flames outta their… Well, out of their tush.❞ This was sure to end in disaster! ❝They like coconut! Wanna help me feed ‘em some?❞
“Okay!” He very carefully started to pick them up and set them down outside their box. He didn’t understand why they were in a box. He wouldn’t want to be in a box. He watched in fascination as they wandered about on the carpet.
“ you don’t want me. “
random sentence starters
“Credence my boy…what makes you say that?” Percival asked
“You’re always at work,” he whispered, looking at the floor as dark tears line his eyes. “You don’t want me.”
Percival sighed, a heavy sound. “My work has nothing to do with you.” He said honestly.
“I have a busy job and I can not leave before it’s done Credence.”
Credence lifted his face to glare at him a moment before he left, taking what remained of Graves’ cup of coffee with him and slamming the door with a shadowy tentacle.
Two days later, a wizard stepped into your office to report flatly, with the most Done expression, “Obscurial activity has been sighted in New Orleans.”
The door opens and grey fog spills over the flooring, rolling forward until it gathers over your feet. Lights flicker and the windows are obscured with darkness. "Muffin, please," Credence says gently.
“Alright,” he blinked, a bit bewildered at the creepy fog. It was unnerving, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead he smiled brightly and nodded, “What sort Would you like?”
He approached the display case, looking over pastries and pointing out several different muffins he was curious about. “What is.. this one? And… that one? What is the red one? Is the other one chocolate? Mr. Graves sent me with money. He wants a dozen donuts, half chocolate and half glazed, for his office.” he said.
“Blueberry, bran with raisins, raspberry and those are chocolate muffins,” he listed, easily matching the ones to where he pointed with a cheerful smile. He was surprised at the order, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead, he nodded and grabbed a flat box to begin putting things in order, “Would he like shaped donuts or just the regular sort? I make them in shapes too.”
He clasped his hands together, anxiously picking at skin around his nails. He averted his gaze, shaking his head. He didn’t know. HE DIDN’T KNOW. All he could do was repeat himself, quicker, “Hewantsadozendonuts,halfchocolateandhalfglazed.”
He shivered, running his hands over his face as his eyes whited out ominously. His voice heightened in pitch, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He touched a hand to the glass. “I want… the chocolate muffin… please.” he whispered.
“It’s alright,” he assured hastily, unsure of why the young man in front of him panicked so badly. He wasn’t sure whether it was safe to touch or not, so he stayed where he was and waited for the panic to subside before moving. He packaged the muffin first and frowned thoughtfully before deciding to just go with his gut, “I’ll give you both. The plain ones aren’t as popular as the shaped ones and I make enough that I could life without a dozen donuts being sold. Think of it as you’re getting a free promotional from the bakery.”
“O-oh... thank you...” He took his muffin and went to sit and eat it while Jacob got all the donuts together. He ate slowly -- a luxury he’d only recently become accustomed to, rather than eating as quickly as possible to conceal that he had eaten at all.
“I like muffins.”
He did. They were soft and warm and made him smile gently. After he threw away his napkin, he went to look at more of Jacob’s creations, and in an exertion of wandless and silent magic, he was shifting them around to fill in gaps and straighten up the pastries.
“ you don’t want me. “
random sentence starters
“Credence my boy…what makes you say that?” Percival asked
“You’re always at work,” he whispered, looking at the floor as dark tears line his eyes. “You don’t want me.”
"Where are the turtles?"
❝The fire crabs? They’re right here, honey!❞
It’s thanks to Newt, of course, that Queenie ended up babysitting a box of baby fire crabs; strange creatures best described as spiky, jewelled tortoises.❝Ain’t they pretty?❞
“Mr. Graves said when it warms up we can go to the zoo.” Credence remarked quietly as he moved closer to kneel beside the box. “Hello crabs... What do fire crabs like?” he wondered, reaching to pat the one he thought looked a little more docile.
The door opens and grey fog spills over the flooring, rolling forward until it gathers over your feet. Lights flicker and the windows are obscured with darkness. "Muffin, please," Credence says gently.
“Alright,” he blinked, a bit bewildered at the creepy fog. It was unnerving, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead he smiled brightly and nodded, “What sort Would you like?”
He approached the display case, looking over pastries and pointing out several different muffins he was curious about. “What is.. this one? And… that one? What is the red one? Is the other one chocolate? Mr. Graves sent me with money. He wants a dozen donuts, half chocolate and half glazed, for his office.” he said.
“Blueberry, bran with raisins, raspberry and those are chocolate muffins,” he listed, easily matching the ones to where he pointed with a cheerful smile. He was surprised at the order, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead, he nodded and grabbed a flat box to begin putting things in order, “Would he like shaped donuts or just the regular sort? I make them in shapes too.”
He clasped his hands together, anxiously picking at skin around his nails. He averted his gaze, shaking his head. He didn’t know. HE DIDN’T KNOW. All he could do was repeat himself, quicker, “Hewantsadozendonuts,halfchocolateandhalfglazed.”
He shivered, running his hands over his face as his eyes whited out ominously. His voice heightened in pitch, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He touched a hand to the glass. “I want... the chocolate muffin... please.” he whispered.
Credence in Crimes of Grindelwald
The door opens and grey fog spills over the flooring, rolling forward until it gathers over your feet. Lights flicker and the windows are obscured with darkness. "Muffin, please," Credence says gently.
“Alright,” he blinked, a bit bewildered at the creepy fog. It was unnerving, but he wasn’t concerned. Instead he smiled brightly and nodded, “What sort Would you like?”
He approached the display case, looking over pastries and pointing out several different muffins he was curious about. “What is.. this one? And... that one? What is the red one? Is the other one chocolate? Mr. Graves sent me with money. He wants a dozen donuts, half chocolate and half glazed, for his office.” he said.
Percival’s lips curved slightly - not in mockery, but an effort to reassure his new, nervous ward that there was nothing to be scared of, and hopefully to encourage future requests. But first, to make up for a number of days of starvation for a growing young man, Percival gestured for Credence to follow Percival to the kitchen, where Percival was already starting wandless cooking.
Soup, and soft rolls. If the boy had not eaten in so long, it would make the young man sick to suddenly swallow heavy things to digest. “Never apologize for needing something, Credence.” Percival thought about it - how to word his concern gently enough around the abused kid - but he admittedly was clumsy with it. He wandlessly pulled the chair out for the kid, as the dinner rolls plumped up on the baking sheet.
He didn’t quite realize how the magic cooking might look to someone who’d grown up in a rigid and punishing Nomaje life. The food took less than 2 minutes to complete. “You are always welcomed to the food and necessities in this house, Credence. Eat slowly, there is always more.”
He couldn’t help but to feel strangely frightened as he watched the bread. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Mr. Graves... but that he was indeed not expecting magic to be used for such a mundane task. Would it taste the same? When the surprise subsided, he stepped closer, looking over the rolls for a moment before heading to his seat.
In a flickering moment of confidence, he focused upon opening cabinets without a word or touch. It was, he imagined, a ridiculously simple task. How was he to know it wasn’t common to use magic without a wand or incantation?
Still, even if it was basic, he wanted to be of some use to Mr. Graves. He almost broke a plate, but he regained control of a slip in time to keep it from shattering.
Once he had managed to bring a roll onto the plate, he was too tired to keep up the display of power. He had to walk over there to retrieve it.
“Thank you, Mr. Graves.” he said softly. “You’re... you’re very kind.”
"Mr. Graves." Credence speaks softly, and when he lifts his gaze he offers him a bouquet of roses.
Percival had taken the both of them out to dinner for the Valentine’s Day, marking this a most significant occasion - the first time Credence and Percival could put aside all their inner terrors over still possibly judgmental surroundings (despite wizard establishments less likely to do so, being persecuted people themselves), and being together as lovers in public.
Credence constantly surprised Percival with his incredible bravery, in contrast with the younger man’s still-timid demeanor. Percival couldn’t help but let his lips tilt up, warmth softening his gaze, before he put his hand over Credence’s hand. He couldn’t help a quick, alert glance-around to make sure no one else was going to harass them, before turning that warm smile back to Credence, accepting the bouquet.
“Sweetheart, you surprise me at every turn.”
At a point on the bridge they paused under the low yellow lighting, hands still linked, and Percival’s lips tugged at a small smile. Instead of answering his younger lover’s longing with reluctant rejection (because work was work, he still had to go the next morning), Percival stepped in, and brought lips to the edge of Credence’s lips. No one was around, and Credence was as open with wanting affection as Credence could already. It made Percival’s chest tighten, it made him warm.
“I can’t promise you that.” Percival offered apologetically, but didn’t delay in following up with decidedly more tease than apology in tone, despite his ever-unchanging expression for the most part, “but I can promise you I am yours all night.”
Had Credence ever thought that he would see the grave Mr. Graves joking playfully? Percival showed this side so very rarely to outsiders, and there were very few that Percival did not consider to be outsiders. Percival reached up and ran a palm along Credence’s sharp cheekbones, “There’s always the weekend. I will endeavor to stay in bed with you, I promise.” An actual hardship, because Credence would know how tightly Percival stuck to routines even in his personal life, early riser, exercised, cooked, and all.
Social cues were largely lost on Credence, so it made no difference to him if his face did not match the heart of his words. He could feel what he couldn’t see.
He often felt guilty for demanding Percival’s attention -- yet it hardly stopped him from pursuing such. They’d had a wonderful evening together, and he knew he should be grateful for any amount of time spent with him. He wished the loneliness wasn’t so quick to sink into his heart when Percival wasn’t close to him. The shadows were never far.
“I want to go home.” he decided. This was certainly something he would never expect to hear from himself a few years ago.
As rain descended over them lightly, his thoughts turned to Percival’s elegant bathroom. How delightful warm water would be on his skin -- a luxury Credence was certain Mr. Graves took for granted.
“I bought new candles yesterday.” he told him, and he couldn’t help but to press the image into Mr. Graves’ mind of the two of them in the marble bath, surrounded by soft flames.
Percival felt for the boy. Credence looked so very overwhelmed. Aside from also being a big cat, Percival really wasn’t the most nurturing, healing of sort to handle what this boy needed, and he worried he would wrong the kid. The only thing he could respond to that with was by pulling with their linked hands until Credence was in Percival’s embrace. The boy was grown but still just a boy, a very lost kid, and Percival was giving him a home.
“You’re home now, Credence.” Percival didn’t know what to say, he could only repeat himself, gently pat Credence on the back as he offered his embrace for as long as Credence needed it. He knew, though, this was likely better done in their feline forms - animal instincts usually in Percival’s experience was the most efficient in cutting through all the human thoughts, and went straight to the base instincts and needs, and animals had no problem expressing themselves directly.
Percival would wait, let Credence have his fill of embrace to calm at least, and then make some food. Credence looked like he could put some meat on his bones.
Credence stood still for a long while before he lifted his arms to slowly wrap them around Percival in silence.
When he parted from him, he took a seat -- on the floor. In front of a couch. He sat stiffly, hands folded politely as he lowered his gaze from Percival...
He’d never been in someone else’s house. He had not the faintest clue of what to do, but he did know he was exceptionally hungry as well as tired.
His stomach broke the silence, for which Credence apologized. “I’m sorry, Mr. Graves... it has been a few days since I’ve eaten.” he said as if it were entirely normal to go so long without food.