The field is replaced today with a coastline. Rocky and grey. Not what he really appreciates at all, too much like home. He walks to the edge and starts looking for ways downwards.
[Light is perched on the edge of the slipway. The grey water is crashing beneath his feet, threatening to wet them: the sketchbook is open. He's drawing his left hand, over and over, but isn't happy with the results. They're flat.
Seeing you pick down the cliff, he closes the book and stands. This is definitely not good.]
He freezes half way down, when he sees Light. It isn't practical to turn around, he can't stay standing here, he'll fall, and above all he can't come closer than this.
[All in all, it's better to stop him getting down to the beach, Light thinks. Too many weapons at hand. Too many improvised projectiles. He heads up the slipway towards you: the cloaked smile is perceptible.]
Comments 94
Seeing you pick down the cliff, he closes the book and stands. This is definitely not good.]
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Near. I haven't seen you for some time.
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