[ He appreciates the simple acceptance of the answer given, and turns back to watch the idyllic scene continue. Not that it remains peaceful that much longer.
It all happens quickly, as so many tragic events do. The shrill screech of tires fill his ears, a noise loud and unpleasant enough that that they fold back briefly against his head. The figures from before crumple to the ground, their forms unmoving, while a third party stumbles out through an open door, clearly not all there. Eustace might not know what a car is, being a ye olde fantays as he is, but he can understand the crux of what's happened, and the tragedy it represents.
Just like that, two important lives lost.
The loss hits a little too close to home, and he can't tell if the agitation winding his chest tight is from the sorrow he feels for this man's loss or the old bitterness from his own that he's carried all these years.
Eustace can't bring himself to look at the other man just yet, so he keeps his eyes trained on the man still stumbling around. There's a crease between his brows now, and an upset frown on his face. ]
I'm sorry.
[ A weak, paltry thing to say, but he's never been good with words even on the best of days. ]
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It all happens quickly, as so many tragic events do. The shrill screech of tires fill his ears, a noise loud and unpleasant enough that that they fold back briefly against his head. The figures from before crumple to the ground, their forms unmoving, while a third party stumbles out through an open door, clearly not all there. Eustace might not know what a car is, being a ye olde fantays as he is, but he can understand the crux of what's happened, and the tragedy it represents.
Just like that, two important lives lost.
The loss hits a little too close to home, and he can't tell if the agitation winding his chest tight is from the sorrow he feels for this man's loss or the old bitterness from his own that he's carried all these years.
Eustace can't bring himself to look at the other man just yet, so he keeps his eyes trained on the man still stumbling around. There's a crease between his brows now, and an upset frown on his face. ]
I'm sorry.
[ A weak, paltry thing to say, but he's never been good with words even on the best of days. ]
What happened afterwards?
[ To both the man and the boy. ]