Acre
"Always nice to add variables to your answers. Then you can never be wrong." Acre's smile never faltered. "Keep the feather, you'll be needing it soon enough. Contact me when you're ready to go, I like darkness but thick clouds are nice too. I haven't got a phone so please, don't call me, I'll call you." Acre walked away, towards the roof, and began walking up his mimed stairs to the roof of the building, whistling all the way. "Oh and Chadwick, tell the twins that thick skulls are crushed as easy as the thin from the shadows. a single chopstick is near worthless compared to two." He began laughing then. But there was no joy in it, just cold, spiritless laugh of despair. He sat in his chair, not knowing if Chad was still out there listening. "And write your will, add in what you want said at your funeral. Mines done, so if you need help..." He let the words hang there as he looked at the birds eating the last of the seeds. "The pit is right below me. All I need is a push." He said under his breath.
