[Her scent fades too quickly for him to follow, so someone ends up standing in the middle of the garden, methodically pulling quills out of his eye, out of his jumpsuit, out of his hands.
Whoever that is, they've seen his face. He stares down at the quills in his palm. Not the end of the world, considering how many people on this ship already recognize it, but an annoyance nonetheless. Klaus hates loose ends.
He wipes a trail of blood from his face, carefully pockets the quills, and makes his way out of the gardens.]
y u p
Whoever that is, they've seen his face. He stares down at the quills in his palm. Not the end of the world, considering how many people on this ship already recognize it, but an annoyance nonetheless. Klaus hates loose ends.
He wipes a trail of blood from his face, carefully pockets the quills, and makes his way out of the gardens.]