The sudden rush of pent emotions takes Finley by surprise, but walling off his emotions and plastering false ones on top is second nature to him. A flicker, a shadow of a frown crosses his face for only an instant before he draws a grin on his lips once more.
"Of course," he tells the bishop happily, trailing along behind him, one hand on Din's shoulder to guide the gnome. "Right behind you."
Walking after the bishop, Finley lets his gait slow just enough to put a bit of space between himself and the clergy, wincing as Din keeps picking and picking at the sore spot. "It's amazing how easy it is to forget how often he gets like this," the bard muses ruefully. The gnome's inability to wall off bad memories, to divorce them from himself, from the present, is something Finley simply can't understand. He does it every day as a matter of course, as much a necessity as putting on his boots in the morning. To walk through life with his true self displayed so openly ... well, in Finley's work, that would likely mean a painful death in the immediate future. Still, even as he marvels at the gnome's behavior, he can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Life must seem so simple...
Enter the Post of the Month contest. Now with new and improved rules!
Failed SAN check; started Insanity. Go Frogs! Next up: LSU. 8/31/13
Although he intensely dislikes his current dependence, he allows Finley to guide him to the warehouse. He attempts to keep his temper in check, but murderous thoughts roil through his head as they make their way to the building.
Blasted, kriffing, old coot! Damn fool's lucky I don't shove his holy symbol up his arse!