[Note: encrypted and distorted. Thanks, Oliver, for the plain text of this when that becomes available.]
Brandon tells me. "Finn and I are in a thick sort of mud. It hurts more to move than to stay put. And I'm not much help at all for the depths you're in."
Around and gone doesn't help, Brandon... I could wander. Make sure no one gets too close.
"And how many people will forget where they are in search of you? The shiny rock in the corner of their eye, too scared to move. They will chase illusions, as we do. Why give them that?"
[Note: Books and poetry are not much protection. - Oliver]
"And you don't want to move out right now."
The last time I did wasn't pleasant for anyone.
He says something else, but the words all mush together. Still can't quite work that one out.
Finn peeks behind me. "We can help them. Tell them everything. We just have to go next door."
"We can't," Brandon smiles, a requiem with too many notes already in place. "You know that. We have to let them go."
So, for now, they do.