[color=#1A1A3B][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]		   felt his mind subtly expand with each Rune he obtained, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant all the way through. Like building muscle, it was sore and weak before it was strong again, but when it no longer hurt it was far stronger than before. After a brief time, really only a few moments, his mind settled, and with these new insights and experiences–the new perspective he’d gained and the grounding it offered him–Farren turned his attention inward once more. Rather...he would have, but instead he gestured to Ophelia for the brand once she had finished. Then, once he'd received it, he allowed himself a few moments of peace before he turned his mind to the strange task that he'd felt drawn to since the Memory had faded.

However, this was riskier, so heedless of how wet and miserable it was…Farren sat down on the cobbled path and closed his eyes as a took a deep breath, head tilted forward, chin slightly tucked to let the rain run off him without entering his nose or building up at his closed eyes. Slowly, as he reached inwards, the pitter-patter of the rain, the gentle wet slip of droplets across his body, and the clinging of his wet garments drifted away. Those physical sensations became distant and muted and somehow, in his Mind’s Eye he began to get a distinct sense for that strange thread of insidious influence that he’d apparently always had.

Farren didn’t know what it was, but to leave it nestled deep in his mind, to let it give rise to fear and dread and unease just felt…wrong. It felt like the remnant of an experience he no longer remembered, perhaps a trauma that now would only hamper him if he didn’t confront it.

Thus, as that pristine Golden thread grew closer, and brighter, in his awareness he sought it out rather than shying away. Though he moved not at all, he imagined reaching out to it with a steady careful hand and just once...'strumming' that Golden Thread inside him, perhaps to see how it would sing.