[ There comes the rustle of lush foliage, the quiet hush in the air of the deep wood. He is silent, his breathing even. Someone walks ahead, pace just as even. An owl hoots in the distance.
He speaks, calm. His voice is young, but cool and composed.
"Why are you walking so fast? You should walk next to me."
The voice that speaks in turn is elegant, smooth, yet agitated.
He huffs, upset in turn.
"Don't say that. I'm your vassal. It's my job to serve you. And I promised to—"
The other voice rises in frustration. The footsteps through the underbrush come to a halt; leaves shudder as the person ahead whirls around. He, too, stops.
"Heh," his chuckle is light, proud. What the other yells at him for seems not to bother him. "You're even more handsome when you're ordering me around."
Except that only makes the other voice angrier—it rises in frustration, gripes echoing through the still foliage.
"Why, Heath?" his voice rises in frustration, too. "Why did you ask me to come with you, then? I thought I was useful to you. I thought you needed—"
A yell, in anger. It cuts him off. But it doesn't deter him.
"Fine. If you don't, then I'm going back to the manor. At least Faust knows how to make me useful."
He whirls on his feet, the leaves and branches shuddering in his frustration. He takes one, two steps atop dead foliage, the only sound in the tension between them, when there comes a low, menacing shudder.
It echoes in the distance, far, but slowly grows. It is no monster, no beast he is familiar with; it whips through the dense trees as it gets louder, and louder.
Static fills his ears, his sense of direction and his heartbeat and his thoughts quickly fizzling out beneath the relentless wave of sheer noise. His breathing quickens, but soon that, too, is lost beneath the audible shudder in the fabric of reality.
Faint, behind the noise, the other voice yells for him. Over and over. Panic, regret. Shino, Shino.
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He speaks, calm. His voice is young, but cool and composed.
"Why are you walking so fast? You should walk next to me."
The voice that speaks in turn is elegant, smooth, yet agitated.
He huffs, upset in turn.
"Don't say that. I'm your vassal. It's my job to serve you. And I promised to—"
The other voice rises in frustration. The footsteps through the underbrush come to a halt; leaves shudder as the person ahead whirls around. He, too, stops.
"Heh," his chuckle is light, proud. What the other yells at him for seems not to bother him. "You're even more handsome when you're ordering me around."
Except that only makes the other voice angrier—it rises in frustration, gripes echoing through the still foliage.
"Why, Heath?" his voice rises in frustration, too. "Why did you ask me to come with you, then? I thought I was useful to you. I thought you needed—"
A yell, in anger. It cuts him off. But it doesn't deter him.
"Fine. If you don't, then I'm going back to the manor. At least Faust knows how to make me useful."
He whirls on his feet, the leaves and branches shuddering in his frustration. He takes one, two steps atop dead foliage, the only sound in the tension between them, when there comes a low, menacing shudder.
It echoes in the distance, far, but slowly grows. It is no monster, no beast he is familiar with; it whips through the dense trees as it gets louder, and louder.
Static fills his ears, his sense of direction and his heartbeat and his thoughts quickly fizzling out beneath the relentless wave of sheer noise. His breathing quickens, but soon that, too, is lost beneath the audible shudder in the fabric of reality.
Faint, behind the noise, the other voice yells for him. Over and over. Panic, regret. Shino, Shino.
The noise swells—
and silence. ]