End of the line for the El is in Tar Wedge. He doesn't remember coming this far north, and he's not sure where he intended to go, but it doesn't surprise him that he's here, drifting his way towards the sea.
He gets off and follows the river because he needs that and it's close enough to the tang of ocean water, the way salt dries on your skin under the sun and leaves a scent there that lasts even if you wash it off. But he is tired.
He sits down by the edge of the river, feet over the side, very close to the water. Maybe about a foot between them. He knows there's things in the river, but right now he's not afraid of anything. He would welcome it, even, at this point: a way out. Some things can be gifts. But -- no, he knows some things, and it's not going to happen. Not today, anyway.
When he looks down at the water all he sees is his own stupid face. He dips down, holding himself off the edge with his arms, to disturb the water with his foot just so that the ripples distort his image and he doesn't have to look at himself.
raven's gate.
He gets off and follows the river because he needs that and it's close enough to the tang of ocean water, the way salt dries on your skin under the sun and leaves a scent there that lasts even if you wash it off. But he is tired.
He sits down by the edge of the river, feet over the side, very close to the water. Maybe about a foot between them. He knows there's things in the river, but right now he's not afraid of anything. He would welcome it, even, at this point: a way out. Some things can be gifts. But -- no, he knows some things, and it's not going to happen. Not today, anyway.
When he looks down at the water all he sees is his own stupid face. He dips down, holding himself off the edge with his arms, to disturb the water with his foot just so that the ripples distort his image and he doesn't have to look at himself.