“Weep for yourself, my man, You’ll never be what is in your heart Weep, little lion man, You’re not as brave as you were at the start Rate yourself and rake yourself Take all the courage you have left And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head…”
Blindy jumped, dropping his pen on the desk and looking around wildly. A familiar flicker, an icy sensation, the tick tick tick of a timepiece and the clicking of gears.
“Clockwork?” The old guardian stuttered, “What are you doing here? Wh-whatever do you mean by fraternizing?”
“With that girl.” Clockwork murmured, all business, all seriousness, “With Amby. The one from the other timeline.”
Blindy swallowed hard and swept his fingertips over his desk, searching for his pen,
“You know what.”
“I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Not specifically, no.” The Master of Time swept closer, Blindy could feel his chill sweep over him, “But you could potentially do something wrong. You’re bending the rules, Once-Ler. Be careful you don’t break them. Stop pretending to have something that you cannot.”
“That’s rather hypocritical of you,” Blindy snorted, finding his pen and spinning it in his fingers, “When are you going to drop this facade of being a ghost, Father Time.”
“This isn’t about me,” Clockwork said, probably a little sharper than he meant to, “You need to think about what you’re doing and reign yourself in.” A surprisingly warm hand descended on Blindy’s shoulder and the guardian stiffened,
“I would hate to have to be the one to tell you that things are not how they are supposed to be.”
There was a sharp snap, ink splattered the papers in front of the forest guardian.
The tent was empty except for Blindy who sat shivering in his seat.
His fingers clenched on the edge of his desk put dents in the wood.