Actually, there's no "buts" about it. It's intrusive for all of them, and there seems to be no end to the fireflies that linger about the monastery. Still, when she sees Claude — a Claude, but which one? that's always the question here, isn't it — she approaches him, even as the memory plays out, her footsteps purposefully heavy against the stone pathway.
Hilda had always had some inkling about his childhood, based on his off-the-cuff remarks and her own observations (not to mention her suspicions, which she'd never voice because what would be the point?). Though nothing surprises her, her brows still crease with concern. Something about this sounds familiar . . .
She speaks up after a moment, approaching him. ]
They're everywhere, apparently.
[ At that, she gestures. The fireflies, that is. ]
no subject
Actually, there's no "buts" about it. It's intrusive for all of them, and there seems to be no end to the fireflies that linger about the monastery. Still, when she sees Claude — a Claude, but which one? that's always the question here, isn't it — she approaches him, even as the memory plays out, her footsteps purposefully heavy against the stone pathway.
Hilda had always had some inkling about his childhood, based on his off-the-cuff remarks and her own observations (not to mention her suspicions, which she'd never voice because what would be the point?). Though nothing surprises her, her brows still crease with concern. Something about this sounds familiar . . .
She speaks up after a moment, approaching him. ]
They're everywhere, apparently.
[ At that, she gestures. The fireflies, that is. ]