[Of course it's Jake's memory. Of course his choices are rain of knives or house with a dog. If it were any other dog, he'd take his chances with the knives, but it isn't any other dog, it's Jake. He pushes down the immediate instinct to bolt and tries to focus on Jake's voice instead, somehow forcing himself past the fear creeping into his veins and moving inside of the house.
Jake is his friend. He isn't just some dog. He isn't going to hurt him or bite him, and all of this is a memory anyway. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again, and when he opens them again he's surprised and softened by the sight of a much younger Finn. He only barely remembers that he's a stranger to both of them here and that he shouldn't act like he knows them. At least not until whatever memory was meant to play out has played out. Before then, trying to convince them of the truth probably wouldn't go anywhere at all.]
T-thank you. [He manages, and hopes he can pass the stutter off to the cold.]
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Jake is his friend. He isn't just some dog. He isn't going to hurt him or bite him, and all of this is a memory anyway. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again, and when he opens them again he's surprised and softened by the sight of a much younger Finn. He only barely remembers that he's a stranger to both of them here and that he shouldn't act like he knows them. At least not until whatever memory was meant to play out has played out. Before then, trying to convince them of the truth probably wouldn't go anywhere at all.]
T-thank you. [He manages, and hopes he can pass the stutter off to the cold.]