At the moment William's concluded--frustrated might be a better word--conversation with one of the soldiers, asking careful questions about the first group of outsiders, imagining how the answers might change with a knife pressed to the man's throat. Fighting down the urge to say Dolores' name just to hear it.
The soldier takes his leave, and William squats by the fire, shifting logs, trying to coax a little more warmth from it.
He looks up to see the boy. Instead of slipping over him, William's gaze lingers. After the first day, no one had paid the boy much mind. He seems to reside in the corner of William's eye, more shadow than person.
It's almost as if he's designed to be overlooked, which is what draws William's attention.
"You don't have to hide." Neither friendly nor unfriendly, though his voice is soft.
no subject
The soldier takes his leave, and William squats by the fire, shifting logs, trying to coax a little more warmth from it.
He looks up to see the boy. Instead of slipping over him, William's gaze lingers. After the first day, no one had paid the boy much mind. He seems to reside in the corner of William's eye, more shadow than person.
It's almost as if he's designed to be overlooked, which is what draws William's attention.
"You don't have to hide." Neither friendly nor unfriendly, though his voice is soft.