[ It's dark, but he can still make out a hand, so close that it nearly brushes up against his as the pencil disappears away. Guessing he's not getting a better look at whatever the hells that was, but he sure is going to try.
It takes a movement for him to arm himself again, paper crumpled in one hand and dagger drawn in the other when he suddenly bolts out of the chair, slashing into the darkness behind them.
His voice grits out, hoarse and dark with urgency. Was he... seeing things? It's never been that tangible— ]
no subject
It takes a movement for him to arm himself again, paper crumpled in one hand and dagger drawn in the other when he suddenly bolts out of the chair, slashing into the darkness behind them.
His voice grits out, hoarse and dark with urgency. Was he... seeing things? It's never been that tangible— ]
Grab it and move.