Flynn wakes with a gasp in his own bed, chased from sleep by buzzing and rumbling and everything he has come to know falling to pieces; he sucks in breath after breath, and pulls himself to his feet, and goes to look at the window at a town that should not be there, and then throws himself onto its streets because it is, anyway. He is ostensibly mapping changes, taking notes in an already-worn notebook.
More than that, though, he's touching buildings, looking out for new faces, grounding himself in a place that isn't home but is the best thing to it right now. He runs his fingers along old worn wood and stucco, traces familiar barrels that had been buried in sand, and spies, alone and wandering, a figure heading out into the desert.
That's new.
With a tiny frown, Flynn pulls his bandana up over his neck to ward off the sun and heads after the figure, calling out with concern clear in his voice, ]
You won't get far, going that way! It's just desert!
a little prickly
Flynn wakes with a gasp in his own bed, chased from sleep by buzzing and rumbling and everything he has come to know falling to pieces; he sucks in breath after breath, and pulls himself to his feet, and goes to look at the window at a town that should not be there, and then throws himself onto its streets because it is, anyway. He is ostensibly mapping changes, taking notes in an already-worn notebook.
More than that, though, he's touching buildings, looking out for new faces, grounding himself in a place that isn't home but is the best thing to it right now. He runs his fingers along old worn wood and stucco, traces familiar barrels that had been buried in sand, and spies, alone and wandering, a figure heading out into the desert.
That's new.
With a tiny frown, Flynn pulls his bandana up over his neck to ward off the sun and heads after the figure, calling out with concern clear in his voice, ]
You won't get far, going that way! It's just desert!