[ Carver stills, listening intently. Trying to interpret the noise he hears. It sounds like - bells? Magic, maybe. He still doesn't understand how Gold's tricks work. Why some of it doesn't seem to take much at all, but others do.
He takes what's pressed into his hands, though. Running his fingers over the surface, frowning.
A cane. Like the one Gold uses.
His mouth twitches. Anger at his own goddamn weakness. But he doesn't refuse it. ]
no subject
He takes what's pressed into his hands, though. Running his fingers over the surface, frowning.
A cane. Like the one Gold uses.
His mouth twitches. Anger at his own goddamn weakness. But he doesn't refuse it. ]
I'm not going to break your shit.
[ Maybe. Probably. ]