#graveheld - midnight

[nocentis]

" the look on your face says there's more on your mind . " / from midnight

✧ ┆Not Accepting

The guild scraped together enough jewel to book a few rooms for the night, and while he probably does not want to know where most of it came from, he's sensible enough to appreciate the reprieve. The inn is modest yet comfortable — especially compared to the creeping chill of the countryside — but he's not yet accustomed to the prospect of showing face without fear of recognition. He's not sure he'll ever be used to it.

He finds comfort in the night sky — the vast and unforgiving nothing that encompasses everything. The stars and their space between always set him back to scale when he feels he is outgrowing his skin. It seems he might not be the only one with a wish to moonbask.

Midnight joins him at the hour of their namesake and returns his cordialities with the expected amount of enthusiasm. Silence fills the air between until they break the sterility to comment, "The look on your face says there's more on your mind."

He’s always been transparent that way. What he doesn’t express through words ends up bleeding through his face, gathering in the worry-worn lines that deepen at the start of each new day. If Macbeth has chosen to mention it, he must look more pathetic than usual.

“With opportunities abound, it’s difficult to decide where to begin."

Half-truths always felt mealy in the mouth, but the whole of it was a mammoth. There was only so much he could chew up and spit out at once.

"Do you mind if I ask where you'll go from here? Or, more precisely, what you'll do?"