@takinghertime.
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“He was unconscious when I found him.”
Fynn, hands coming to rest on his hips, took a good moment. Studied the situation. Not that there was much to study: his bright-eyed Time Lady, stood with a hulking, grey-skinned ex-warlord ( wanted for a list, longer than both his gorilla arms, of war crimes ) out cold at her feet.
His brows arched, expressively. “Was he now.”













