[ It shouldn't sound like that. He's been to Ormond a million and one times now. He knows how it sounds. The howling wind, the sound of crunching snow, the fire in the distance crackling. The sounds here are distinct. Quentin finds himself staring at the shack as he passes it because he also knows that sound he's hearing is distinct from somewhere else. Somewhere he'd rather not be.
His finger hurts more than it should and he balls his hand tighter around the phone until the sound of it going off and vibrating makes him flinch. He looks down at it, hoping it's ringing in reality and it's enough to snap him up. The name isn't Ash though. He lowers it at first, holding a breath and trying to continue his futile search for something to jolt him up. He picks up a stick and test swings it, only for it to crumble. He throws it down.
It doesn't stop. His eyes water from stress and his nose starts running from the cold. He huffs and swipes across the phone with his pointer, just smearing blood across it and then rubbing it quickly against his pants and trying again with his thumb. He holds it to his ear. His tone comes out harsh, volatile. Go on, Freddy. Do the spiel. ]
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His finger hurts more than it should and he balls his hand tighter around the phone until the sound of it going off and vibrating makes him flinch. He looks down at it, hoping it's ringing in reality and it's enough to snap him up. The name isn't Ash though. He lowers it at first, holding a breath and trying to continue his futile search for something to jolt him up. He picks up a stick and test swings it, only for it to crumble. He throws it down.
It doesn't stop. His eyes water from stress and his nose starts running from the cold. He huffs and swipes across the phone with his pointer, just smearing blood across it and then rubbing it quickly against his pants and trying again with his thumb. He holds it to his ear. His tone comes out harsh, volatile. Go on, Freddy. Do the spiel. ]
Hi Dad.