[ falco listens— he makes sure to listen as he moves about, hurrying his small hands across the black sand to wipe the words away. carefully making sure he avoids the soaking purple bile seeping into mineral enough to just leave a slimy stain where it all splattered. his . . . knife, was on the floor. once the writing close enough was dealt with, the boy lifts himself, tucks the floral blade back where it belongs, and finishes the process of deletion by rubbing the rest away with his boot. his mouth still felt dry and the taste was awful like swallowing . . . he can't even put a polite word to it. maybe garbage was close. ]
Y—yes. I know. [ he doesn't know a library about the thing, but he knows enough. ] It's from somewhere else.
[ would it help if—? ]
Someone here said that . . . It's like Corruption, if Corruption were an entity.
no subject
Y—yes. I know. [ he doesn't know a library about the thing, but he knows enough. ] It's from somewhere else.
[ would it help if—? ]
Someone here said that . . . It's like Corruption, if Corruption were an entity.