[The camera feed flicks on. The trees rise around like tall, brooding sentinels, still and silent and watchful. The waxing moon is far away tonight, giving only a little light, enough to illuminate the blackness with dark blue and green. As the eyes grow more accustomed, the shapes grow more pronounced. It’s almost possible to see the faces stare
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He's used to searching. How often had this happened in World's End? People went missing, got into trouble on a near daily basis there, and he had lost count of the times that Zelda had sent him forth as her eyes.
Which was not to say that he begrudged it, by any means. The trust was something he valued highly, had been then and was now - moreso now, perhaps, the princess knowing him so little as she did.
The night is well on, and the moon hidden, but still he does not stop. His eyes see better than most in this dark, and he has Karasu, too. It's a better feeling than being cooped up, certainly, stuck indoors and trapped.
He stops short. He can hear something - hear breathing, and not just that of the black dogs that have been slinking here and there, grinning at him. No, this is distinctly more human, and a little shaken - a sob? No, no.
It occurs to him that it could easily be a glamour, but he heads towards it, swift and silent.]
North?
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Who's there? I'm armed.
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