Harrowheart's question isn't one he wants to answer, so he frowns and glances at the currently short man, before turning on his heels to go back to his bedroom. He hesitates in the doorway before he steps inside, leaving the door open as he just... stands there. It takes him a minute to realise that... he's not going to feel anything. Even if something was there... everything's distanced. Harrowheart's dead body isn't connected to the world the same way his own is. Before he can help himself he hisses a quiet and worried, "Shit. Shit, shit, shit..."
After a moment to stress, he grabs the teacup, now stone cold, and brings it out. "You were supposed to drink this. You c-can't not drink this." Then he moves to the kitchen, setting the cup down and coming out with a bowl of salt, a couple of bay leaves set in it. After he's set that in his bedroom he comes back out to root out a funny looking bundle of dried up leaves. Suddenly he finally stops all his rushing as he blinks at the thing in his hands. "Oh. I... I can't use magic..." He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to think. "Matches... matches... where would I have put them..."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2016-02-01 11:14 pm (UTC)After a moment to stress, he grabs the teacup, now stone cold, and brings it out. "You were supposed to drink this. You c-can't not drink this." Then he moves to the kitchen, setting the cup down and coming out with a bowl of salt, a couple of bay leaves set in it. After he's set that in his bedroom he comes back out to root out a funny looking bundle of dried up leaves. Suddenly he finally stops all his rushing as he blinks at the thing in his hands. "Oh. I... I can't use magic..." He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to think. "Matches... matches... where would I have put them..."