[So, turns out he was wrong — they aren't vines, they're strands of hair. Thick black hair, corded like steel with the toughness to match. He doesn't have a clue how the fuck that's even possible, but he's not about to stop and shout questions at the sink, which apparently seems to be where it's coming from. Turns out they're not as durable as they appear, and when he cuts through the first one, there's a snapping sound that really does sound like a vine whipping back, and the thunderous wailing filling the room seems to warble.
Good sign, right?
When the last strand whips back after being cut, it nearly takes some of Bigby's arm off with it. He stumbles back, trips, falls flat on his ass with the shard of glass skittering to the ground somewhere beside him. Then the screaming abruptly ends and he's left in silence.
Well, he and his new friend anyway.
Bigby turns his attention away from the sink after staring at it for a good long while to make sure the hair is really gone, focusing instead on the wolf. For a second, the white noise buzzing in his head settles and there's nothing but curiously comfortable blankness, then
(forest brothers mother)
something just
(I'll see you around...Wolf.)
clicks.
It's like flipping a switch on and giving light to a dark room — not a lot to fill the whole place but enough to make finding your way a little easier. Bigby remembers that he's not human, far, far from it, but it doesn't...bother him. Not as much as it should. That should be alarming, even frightening.
But he doesn't feel either emotion as he stares directly at the wolf, not breaking eye contact as he slowly moves to get his bearings and push himself off the floor, like he knows he has to be careful with the way he moves because anything abrupt or panicky could be construed as a weakness.
Because that's how he would take it, if their positions were reversed.]
no subject
Good sign, right?
When the last strand whips back after being cut, it nearly takes some of Bigby's arm off with it. He stumbles back, trips, falls flat on his ass with the shard of glass skittering to the ground somewhere beside him. Then the screaming abruptly ends and he's left in silence.
Well, he and his new friend anyway.
Bigby turns his attention away from the sink after staring at it for a good long while to make sure the hair is really gone, focusing instead on the wolf. For a second, the white noise buzzing in his head settles and there's nothing but curiously comfortable blankness, then
(forest brothers mother)
something just
(I'll see you around...Wolf.)
clicks.
It's like flipping a switch on and giving light to a dark room — not a lot to fill the whole place but enough to make finding your way a little easier. Bigby remembers that he's not human, far, far from it, but it doesn't...bother him. Not as much as it should. That should be alarming, even frightening.
But he doesn't feel either emotion as he stares directly at the wolf, not breaking eye contact as he slowly moves to get his bearings and push himself off the floor, like he knows he has to be careful with the way he moves because anything abrupt or panicky could be construed as a weakness.
Because that's how he would take it, if their positions were reversed.]