He's laughing at Ned's antics, feeling delighted and amused and altogether more happy than he has in quite some time, but as soon as Ned topples off the wall, he's rushing to the low wall to look over the edge of it. "Are you okay?" he asks, and he's not laughing anymore, he's genuinely worried that Ned might have twisted his ankle or landed in some way that had seriously hurt him. That strange yell Ned had let out didn't sound good.
And it isn't good. It's a lot worse than he could have possibly imagined. At first, he doesn't quite know what he's looking at, because his brain refuses to process it. There's Ned, on the ground, having landed near some bushes, and there's... a woman, a woman who looks very much dead, except she's sitting up, and she's covered in blood, and it's like she's trying to say something. It should be enough to make him back away, to make him start screaming, because she's obviously dead, nobody could survive having their throat cut like that, and if she's dead, how can she be moving, how can she be trying to speak.
But he can't seem to look away, and he can't seem to say anything, and it's exactly as he's always feared it would be if he were confronted with something horrible: he just shuts down, staring, mouth wide open, forgetting to breathe, forgetting how to say anything coherent. And then Ned touches her, and there's a strange blue light, and then she's collapsing back into the bushes again, still obviously dead, but this time, as unmoving as she should have been all along.
It's then that he remembers his words. They're jumbled, and they don't come out right, and his voice is unnaturally high pitched, even for him, and frantic. "She... Jesus fucking Christ, she was dead, wasn't she? That was a dead body. Did she... did you... how did..."
He's gaping, probably looking ridiculous, still staring at the bushes that the dead woman had collapsed back into, then letting his gaze flick back to Ned, shaking his head slowly. "Dead people can't... I mean, I believe in some pretty weird shit, but that's not... but you... and then you touched her, and she... what the fuck just happened?"
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And it isn't good. It's a lot worse than he could have possibly imagined. At first, he doesn't quite know what he's looking at, because his brain refuses to process it. There's Ned, on the ground, having landed near some bushes, and there's... a woman, a woman who looks very much dead, except she's sitting up, and she's covered in blood, and it's like she's trying to say something. It should be enough to make him back away, to make him start screaming, because she's obviously dead, nobody could survive having their throat cut like that, and if she's dead, how can she be moving, how can she be trying to speak.
But he can't seem to look away, and he can't seem to say anything, and it's exactly as he's always feared it would be if he were confronted with something horrible: he just shuts down, staring, mouth wide open, forgetting to breathe, forgetting how to say anything coherent. And then Ned touches her, and there's a strange blue light, and then she's collapsing back into the bushes again, still obviously dead, but this time, as unmoving as she should have been all along.
It's then that he remembers his words. They're jumbled, and they don't come out right, and his voice is unnaturally high pitched, even for him, and frantic. "She... Jesus fucking Christ, she was dead, wasn't she? That was a dead body. Did she... did you... how did..."
He's gaping, probably looking ridiculous, still staring at the bushes that the dead woman had collapsed back into, then letting his gaze flick back to Ned, shaking his head slowly. "Dead people can't... I mean, I believe in some pretty weird shit, but that's not... but you... and then you touched her, and she... what the fuck just happened?"