Whatever We Do It's Too Little, Too Late [Jigsaw]

Áskell felt a mix of relief and anxiety as Jigsaw confirmed that he'd heard it to. Ok, well, Áskell wasn't crazy but then that meant their father really was calling to them. He'd never paid much attention to spirits or any talk of the spirit world and now he was wishing he'd have asked his father more about it before the man had passed. With his brother agreeing to go and following alongside him Áskell took off after the fireflies. He scrambled through the nook, weaving through redbud trees after the fireflies, trying to follow the wave of them toward an unknown destination.

"Keep Going!"

Áskell kept up, trying to ignore the cool breeze that seemed to be pushing them along, edging them forward. As he ran he could remember now stories his father would tell of some spirits and how they would play tricks on mortals, luring them to their deaths. His pace slowed a little but at the urging of the voice he continued on. There was only one way to find out what the voice belonged to.