you don't need my light. wolf, day 3; d10.

It seems Wolf has slunk so far into the shadows that she is now at the very back of the suite. It's not that different to the third floor - not really. The quarters are placed in the same place, the same amount of steps apart, and the statues of previous victors are just as grand.

She finds herself staring at the shrine for a while, trying to find Emerson in the faces of Marcus, Saffron and Mace. It's clear the men in his family tree are blessed with height (or perhaps Saffron is purposely tiny) but it's his aunt's face that surprised Wolf the most.

Even in the moulded face of a child she sees it - sees him. Those freckled arms, knobbly knees, the shape of her eyes. Emerson might be the latest offering in Marcus' legacy but he's all Lowe - there's just no doubting it. His chin, his ears, wide palms and thin fingers. How uncanny. How remarkable.

Wolf's hand reaches out instinctively toward a face so like his, but she catches herself at the last second and snatches it back. These are just statues, that's all. They're not real. And they're not the boy at the other end of the District Suite, the one she really wants to touch and beg forgiveness of.

She sighs, stepping back to take one last look at the seven figures standing above her.

"I'll get him home," Wolf promises, and slinks away.

[ coding by griffin ]