IWLougris



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    The cell they’re in is cool and damp, moisture dripping down the walls in shining rivulets. Jester’s out cold when they’re dragged in, but Caleb’s awake, if only barely, and so catches pieces of conversation, taunts and threats. He’s known jailers like this before, had suffered extensively under them in the jail where he met Nott. He knows the type- overconfident, cruel, inclined to go after the weakest, softest target, because they don’t want a challenge so much as a reaction.

    Caleb weighs his options as he waits for Jester to wake up. They’re both spent from the fight before they were captured, and he knows that especially without his components, they’re on their own until help arrives. He’s moved her so her head is pillowed on his lap, and he absently cards his fingers through her hair as he thinks. He knows this type of people, knows what they’re capable of, how they react, who they’ll likely go for once they’re ready to start. He knows, and he refuses to let that happen.

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    21 Mar 2022