"Trailblazer." He thinks of all the trails scattered across Maine, the handful they'd tried on school trips, the days of hiking boots and trail mix and tiny, shitty tents. He'd actually kind of loved it, pretending that they were big game hunters or world explorers. He's a little closer to his childhood than he ever expected he'd be, with all those returned memories swimming around in his head, still processing.
This is the first time he's thought to consider them a blessing. At last, he cracks a smile.
"Smashing," he proclaims in that stuffy British voice from earlier, only now it's a bit more Tim Curry than Alistair Cook. "Well, then, dearie bird, now that I've mapped this fine watering hole, perhaps we should see what that ruckus is all about. Pip pip!"
He can't believe he's doing this. Only ... tilt it a little. Hunt a rhino with a stick gun in some forsaken branch of the Appalachian Trail? Easy. Training for facing down a two-story demon in a sewer. The big fear is dead. If he can kill that, maybe he can kill anything.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-09-26 07:53 pm (UTC)This is the first time he's thought to consider them a blessing. At last, he cracks a smile.
"Smashing," he proclaims in that stuffy British voice from earlier, only now it's a bit more Tim Curry than Alistair Cook. "Well, then, dearie bird, now that I've mapped this fine watering hole, perhaps we should see what that ruckus is all about. Pip pip!"
He can't believe he's doing this. Only ... tilt it a little. Hunt a rhino with a stick gun in some forsaken branch of the Appalachian Trail? Easy. Training for facing down a two-story demon in a sewer. The big fear is dead. If he can kill that, maybe he can kill anything.