There was a lot he didn’t want to think about. The thought of facing the farmstead alone - he didn’t want to think of it. The man was as distant and detached as ever, but he had yet to outright abandon Bigby, and the abomination intended to keep in his good graces so as to prevent him from changing his mind. He never turned into the beast - he didn’t want to push his luck with Reynauld. Everything in Bigby’s body stung and burned from exercertion and from the wounds he sustained. They played the defensive, fight and run. They never really fought in full, unable to take on the slew of enemies bombarding them with just the two of them. Time passed them by, and Bigby had not had a moment of respite from his pounding headache since he arrived in this accursed place. No matter which way he turned or where he stood, he could see it. Always within sight, even when it shouldn’t be.
This place didn’t make any sense - it was as though it changed its geology on a whim, and Bigby felt like he was no longer on earth, but somewhere else, an endless maze of ash and crystal. They couldn’t find the exit, everything just kept changing, ever shifting, like reflected light. They wandered the fields of the farmstead, slaying husks, looking around. Junia had disappeared into the farmstead, and after what felt like several days Bigby, who had at some point regained control over the beast, and Reynauld gave up searching for her.
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