Lost Creek Hollow See how breeze and grass do play

Aquillius slipped out of the den fully after a time, shaking out his thick coat and releasing a soft sigh at the feeling of sunlight on his thin-boned frame.

The boy’s single eye watched the dark leader with an expression like stone, one of his ears flicking as a fly buzzed by it. Internally, he felt a mess, a barely formed together creature of wires and knots. He was adrift, lacking the purpose he strived for all his life. But he did not let the emotion appear on his face, couldn’t.

The mention of dreams, however, cracked the stone. His eyes minutely widened, mouth dropping open for a second, before he looked away, swallowing around a click in his throat.

Yes. Lying would do no good, if he had already been caught.

How did you know? Was he so obvious in his struggle with the demon and the spider in his mind?