[... maybe he is like, a detective. he'll gently push it enough that he can crouch down and look through it, with the help of the moon and the darkness he's gotten used to (with a goal in mind, it doesn't bother him so much) maybe he can see what, or who, it is.]
...?
[a soundless "maddy" on his lips, the vocal constriction of his chords tight with hope]
no subject
...?
[a soundless "maddy" on his lips, the vocal constriction of his chords tight with hope]