Room 227, Monday Morning
Sep. 29th, 2025 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thatsmyswordLast night, Henry had dragged Hans to the preserve on the pretext of hunting-- not that they'd gotten far with it, but still. It had kept Hans away from anywhere he could do further damage, and put him at ease besides; for all his airs, Capon really did seem most settled in the woods, far from the rest of the world.
But as Jane had said, come midnight, he'd vanished. Just like that. Left Henry there, staring at the fire they'd made, once again lost in a world he didn't understand, all by himself.
He hadn't slept well upon return to his room. There were the usual nightmares, of course, but also a worse restlessness that kept crawling into his legs and moving them about. By first light, he'd sat back up - as quietly as he could - and grabbed his journal out from under the bed. He flipped past several pages of scratch (paused, briefly, over Pious, Timmy, Reeky) and pressed flowers to an empty one, and set his pen to the top.
Sir Hans appeared as if out of nowhere this week's end, and returned just as quickly. I was able to share some of mypri predit troubles with him and he esr spoke of his worry I would not make it back--
He was getting handier with the writing the longer he kept this journal, but he'd still be quite a while that morning, just filling the page as he tried to pull all the ends of the past few days from memory.
After a few hours, he got up to open the door and let some fresh air in, but he remained pensive.
[[ open ]]
But as Jane had said, come midnight, he'd vanished. Just like that. Left Henry there, staring at the fire they'd made, once again lost in a world he didn't understand, all by himself.
He hadn't slept well upon return to his room. There were the usual nightmares, of course, but also a worse restlessness that kept crawling into his legs and moving them about. By first light, he'd sat back up - as quietly as he could - and grabbed his journal out from under the bed. He flipped past several pages of scratch (paused, briefly, over Pious, Timmy, Reeky) and pressed flowers to an empty one, and set his pen to the top.
Sir Hans appeared as if out of nowhere this week's end, and returned just as quickly. I was able to share some of my
He was getting handier with the writing the longer he kept this journal, but he'd still be quite a while that morning, just filling the page as he tried to pull all the ends of the past few days from memory.
After a few hours, he got up to open the door and let some fresh air in, but he remained pensive.
[[ open ]]
