Henry Goodsir (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
naturalmisery) wrote2019-06-03 09:59 am
naturalmisery) wrote2019-06-03 09:59 am
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The past several days have been utter madness.
The snow had come on so swiftly, blanketing the city, howling wind and freezing temperatures plunging them into a world Harry recognizes far too well. For him, the worst has been the lack of light. While on the expedition, the darkness had lasted terribly long, stretching for as many as twenty-three hours, only for there to be a mere hour of milky sunlight on the very worst days.
Harry had thought he'd left it all behind when he'd come to Darrow, but that same darkness has crept into this city as well, and he spends several long days in his flat, wondering if it's somehow followed him here. Wondering if he's simply meant to die in a world full of ice and snow and shadows.
Eventually, with nothing else to fill his time, he tries using his telephone to reach Zoe. To make sure she's safe and that she has enough food to last if they're indeed snowed in for as long as he anticipates they might be. Edgar has shown him what to do with the telephone and he's sure he's using it properly, but the call refuses to connect and after several attempts, he tosses the phone onto the kitchen table in disgust.
It's a terribly stupid idea, but he doesn't care. There are very few instances in Harry's life when he can claim to have been brave, to have stood for something important, and if one of the few friends he's made thus far in Darrow is in need, he knows he must go to help.
Wearing as many of his layers as he possibly can and dressing himself in the boots he had arrived in, Harry ventures out into the driving snow and makes the very long trek to Zoe's flat. By the time he arrives, he's shivering, covered in snow, but he thinks he's successfully avoided frostbite and he rings the buzzer for her flat with numb fingers, praying to find her safe.
The snow had come on so swiftly, blanketing the city, howling wind and freezing temperatures plunging them into a world Harry recognizes far too well. For him, the worst has been the lack of light. While on the expedition, the darkness had lasted terribly long, stretching for as many as twenty-three hours, only for there to be a mere hour of milky sunlight on the very worst days.
Harry had thought he'd left it all behind when he'd come to Darrow, but that same darkness has crept into this city as well, and he spends several long days in his flat, wondering if it's somehow followed him here. Wondering if he's simply meant to die in a world full of ice and snow and shadows.
Eventually, with nothing else to fill his time, he tries using his telephone to reach Zoe. To make sure she's safe and that she has enough food to last if they're indeed snowed in for as long as he anticipates they might be. Edgar has shown him what to do with the telephone and he's sure he's using it properly, but the call refuses to connect and after several attempts, he tosses the phone onto the kitchen table in disgust.
It's a terribly stupid idea, but he doesn't care. There are very few instances in Harry's life when he can claim to have been brave, to have stood for something important, and if one of the few friends he's made thus far in Darrow is in need, he knows he must go to help.
Wearing as many of his layers as he possibly can and dressing himself in the boots he had arrived in, Harry ventures out into the driving snow and makes the very long trek to Zoe's flat. By the time he arrives, he's shivering, covered in snow, but he thinks he's successfully avoided frostbite and he rings the buzzer for her flat with numb fingers, praying to find her safe.