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

Áskell raced across the land, chasing after the fireflies but as he went it seemed like the voices were fading. "Dad? Dad where are you?" He slowed and looked about. The fireflies had slowed and were gently bobbing nonchalantly about the nook. Áskell looked up at the moon then back around at everything going on around him. It was far quieter than it should've been and he slammed his foot into the ground in frustration. It couldn't have all been in his head if Jigsaw had heard it to so what the hell had it been? Were they both just crazy in the exact same way?

Áskell caught up to Jigsaw and called out to his brother but as he did Jigsaw threw his head down and covered his ears with his paws. "Jigsaw! Jigsaw, what is it?" He crouched near his brother but nothing he said seemed to go through. This had to be the work of a foul spirit, tormenting them and the fireflies were surely its messengers. Áskell eyed the fireflies for a moment then bounded forward, trying to catch one between his paws so he could take a closer look at it and maybe interrogate the little creature.