[ The escape from his crystalline prison takes more out of him than he expects, and Eustace spends a good handful of minutes just lying on the ground, breathing deeply in and out as he tries to orient himself and regain feeling in his limbs.

It's as he's sitting up and wiping hair from his face that he catches sight of it out of the corner of his eye; a strange glint on the right side of his face reflecting off the hollow walls of his now-broken cage. A cold feeling spreads in the pit of his stomach, ice frosting over his insides as he steps closer for a better view, turning this way and that as he tries to see if any other part of his body has been tampered with.

Movement to his right has him turning. Another body, another person like him broken free. Without wasting time, he strides (read: hobbles) his way over, eyes scanning across every inch of their body.

If he doesn't find what he's looking for (your shard), he orders brusquely: ]

Turn around.

[ He sits by the riverbank, his too-short white gown now dirtied and torn from two weeks on the road. Leaning nearby against one tree is a guard, whip hanging loose from his belt, attention only half-trained on his detainee. And why should he pay too close attention? All his charge has been doing for the past half hour is skipping stones, one after another. Bo-ring.

For his part, Eustace is careful not to rouse suspicion, varying his throws even as he takes note of the size and shapes of the rocks littering the riverbank, and the weight of them in his palm. Hardly the type of weapons he's used to using, but better something than nothing. What's a handful of pebbles going to do against a cadre of well-armed guards? Probably nothing, but it doesn't hurt to keep his aim well-honed in case whatever oncoming 'ritual' is more than any of them bargained for.

He waits until the guard's looking away, roped into a brief conversation with one of his compatriots, before precisely flinging another stone over the river. This one doesn't skim across the surface; instead, it hits a dragonfly perched on a log some distance away and knocks it into the water, sending ripples across the surface. He doesn't smile, but his ears twitch once in satisfaction. ]

[ when you play an antisocial asshole and all your prompts are boring....feel free to wildcard something of your own or leave me a general vibe and i'll write a custom starter! happy to roll with anything. ]