katabasis: ([015])
ƬƠƬƛԼԼƳ ƇƠƊЄƤЄƝƊЄƝƬ ƑԼƖƝƬ ([personal profile] katabasis) wrote in [personal profile] thereneverwas 2023-10-17 05:48 am (UTC)

action;

It's mid-afternoon and the ferry is late.

Potentially the ferryman, still on the Gallows side of the harbkr, had slipped their spyglass from their pocket and, noting only two figures waiting on the Kirkwall docks, had decided against braving the chop. They could wait, whoever they were, until the wind blew out and the way across became slightly less treacherous.

That certainly is the theory Flint has settled on. Stood on the rainy Kirkwall dock ferry slip next to Barrow, he lowers his own glass from his eye and blinks back the gathered raindrops that threaten to slip from his brow and into his eye. It's dumping, and the waxed hooded overcoat he's in only accomplishes so much.

Click, click. The spyglass collapses down and is tucked into his belt.

"We may as well find ourselves a drink," Flint says, turning from the roiling black surface of the harbor.

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