Hawk looks at Maeve and sighs slowly, as if trying to expel his disorientation with the breath itself.
"I honestly don't know. But why did you tell me I'm not in the past anymore? You... saw mine?" He asks carefully.
It's Maeve's turn to sigh.
"I was trying to help you. We thought you'd been hit by corruption magic." She briefly explains the storm's aftereffects.
"And somehow, I ended up in your past." She adds.
Hawk says nothing as he listens. Then he asks, "You didn't see me there?"
Maeve frowns. "You mean the younger version, Little Ro, or the current you?"
"The current me."
She shakes her head. "No. Just Little Ro."
Hawk blinks. He doesn't know what to feel. Part of him is embarrassed, uncomfortable that a stranger, essentially, saw his childhood laid bare. But another part of him wants exactly that. To be seen. To be heard. To be understood. To be forgiven.
He exhales shakily.
"What..." He pauses, unsure how to continue.
