Samuel
I pray to blades of grass
Samuel was desperate, though he'd never allow himself to phrase it that way, not even in his own mind. Convincing himself that he was entirely in control of the urge to numb the pain was just as important as the numbing itself. The relief that washed over him as Nate agreed would sicken him when he thought back on it later, though in the moment he was at least aware enough to not let it show in his expression.He stared at the hand for a moment, thinking of all the things Nate must touch during a day in the Drench. Once, he'd been just as accustomed to the damp and dirt as much as any other Drencher, but now after life in the Plates, snobbery had begun to set in. Deciding that getting out a handkerchief would look silly, he took Nate's hand after a hesitation. "Alright. I expect it to be ready when I next return."
Business now concluded, he turned on his heels. No goodbyes, no pleasantries - he did not want to linger.
{END}
To find forgiveness in the weeds
