#*kenneth sutton.

“i’m fine where i am.” though his body acts in direct defiance of this assurance, shivering slightly in the late february chill, kenneth’s tone is weighted with insistence, dangerously near agitation. he pulls his coat tighter round his waist, shifts his gaze upward towards alden only momentarily, before returning his attention to the letter he holds in a trembling grip  -  a little stained by age, fading ink and frayed edges, distinctly lined from constant refolding. its contents are memorized, but there’s a comfort in seeing benjamin’s handwriting; a reminder that he was here once, tangible, living in this world and not solely in kenneth’s memory. he prefers to be alone in this reliving, but the irritation alden’s presence sparks is fleeting, either unable to muster the energy to maintain such negativity  -  or unwilling to try.

it isn’t anger he wishes to focus on, not with benji so close.

but the initial sentiment remains; kenneth’s still unmoving, curled into himself atop the wall, a bow and quiver at his side, should the need for it arise  -  though he’s not entirely invested in watching beyond the wall, he has occasionally observed for movement in the darkness, whispering to himself the worn words. i wish i could see you, they had written to one another, and he recites it for the both of them  - feeling it sharply, like a blade slicing skin. wish i could see you.