After the realization, they began making their way to Moistvile. Majestria, of course, complained nonstop, but no one paid her any attention, forcing her to follow along whether she liked it or not. Behind them, the Incubus Midwife waved goodbye to Finn, its snake-like drawl trailing in the fog.
As they moved, Finn felt way more at ease with the girls nearby. Whatever had called his name earlier had put him on edge, and having them close helped calm the lingering unease. He didn't feel like anyone was actively watching him now—but the thought of it still clung stubbornly in his mind.
Maybe he was paranoid. Maybe he was slowly losing it. Either way, dwelling on it would be a one-way ticket to a white padded room, and he wasn't ready to check in yet.
Majestria, once again perched on his shoulders, began glowing faintly, casting their path forward in a ghostly light. The fog clung thickly to the ground, swirling around their legs as if the fog itself was trying to slow them down.
