Thomas's Choice

"Isn't that what it takes to be a knight, to be strong?"

"That's...not wrong?" Thomas hesitated and, within a fleeting moment, he swore he felt his heart beat. A vague notion stirred deep in his memories. The pain faded along with the thought. He cursed aloud.

His curse echoed in the silent ruin, and Mr. Fisher stopped dead in his tracks, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. Thomas was apathetic.

He knew exactly where the lycanthrope was waiting and it wasn't around the corner. However, an echo did peak his curiosity. He motioned for the hesitant father to follow him around the corner, where wood gave way to a metal bridge spanning over (what used to be) a massive, greenhouse garden.

That meant their destination was close. Penelope shifted around on his back, prompting him to glance over his shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked.