He was there, of course. Finian had stood toward the back, guided there not-so-subtly by his father, whose premonition of terrible things had come true with a vengeance. Finian hadn't seen the man die-- not over the heads of everyone else, and because his own had been ducked, afraid of the truth-- but he had heard it.
He's seen people die before, it comes with the territory of working with the infirm. But not like that. Never like that.
It's early after a night of sleeplessness that he begins to make rounds of the village, a basket under his arm with one of his favorite herbal teas and the bold intention of not stopping until everyone has received a packet. He knocks politely on Johanna's door, and waits.
the next morning
He's seen people die before, it comes with the territory of working with the infirm. But not like that. Never like that.
It's early after a night of sleeplessness that he begins to make rounds of the village, a basket under his arm with one of his favorite herbal teas and the bold intention of not stopping until everyone has received a packet.
He knocks politely on Johanna's door, and waits.