[This time, he knows whose voice is coming out of the bird's beak. Kyle's clumsy denial only solidifies it. He doesn't need to know who the other voice was, or who Dayyid is, to understand the furtive conversation, because he understands the fear woven through it, pulling everything tight. If he discovered us... It's the fear that accompanies doing something you shouldn't, the anxiety that's wound around the thought of getting caught.
This time, he doesn't know what to say. He pretends that he believes Kyle. Confusion and worry knot his expression — that takes no pretending.
As they walk, the shadowy flock flits from branch to branch around them. Wilhelm is startled by a voice he would still know anywhere: Hey, about what happened the other night... Even knowing that the boy who the voice belongs to won't be there, he snaps his gaze back over his shoulder.
I was thinking...we should just forget about it, his own voice interrupts from another black beak. I told you, I'm not like that. You get what I'm saying, right? But we can still be friends.]
Would you fuck off already?
[Now from his own mouth, words like flint striking. Wilhelm hurls the flame he'd been clutching in his palm, and the shadows burst apart. The fire catches on the thick underbrush that their path cuts through.]
no subject
This time, he doesn't know what to say. He pretends that he believes Kyle. Confusion and worry knot his expression — that takes no pretending.
As they walk, the shadowy flock flits from branch to branch around them. Wilhelm is startled by a voice he would still know anywhere: Hey, about what happened the other night... Even knowing that the boy who the voice belongs to won't be there, he snaps his gaze back over his shoulder.
I was thinking...we should just forget about it, his own voice interrupts from another black beak. I told you, I'm not like that. You get what I'm saying, right? But we can still be friends.]
Would you fuck off already?
[Now from his own mouth, words like flint striking. Wilhelm hurls the flame he'd been clutching in his palm, and the shadows burst apart. The fire catches on the thick underbrush that their path cuts through.]