Finn studied the book a bit more. He closed it, flipped it around and opened it once more as if it were a strange device he'd never seen before in his life. You would have thought he'd never so much as seen a book before on account of his odd look but it wasn't so much the book itself than the words that it carried within. Reading was a luxury. Or, at least, that's how it was treated all of his life. His mother, his sisters and it wasn't a stretch to say that even his father were illiterate. Why read when you could work? And why work when you could steal and cheat your way through life? It was an easier life, in some ways, and rougher in others. But books were supposed to mean something to the literate bunch - knowledge and stories, fact and fiction and anywhere in between and beyond. Finn supposed he'd met a handful of people who could truly read, Eli being one of them.

Finally, he set the book face down, somewhat surprised that he didn't burst into flames upon touching it, then slid it back to Eli. His face fell from his earlier perk of curiosity to a lax expression and leaned back into his seat once more. His long, speckled arms folded lazily over his chest and he threw his eyes down to the floor, around the back corners of the room as if they were somehow suddenly interesting. 

"Judge wants me to be a good man, don't he?" Finn cleared his throat, as if to shake off the intimacy of the Holy Book and what it had meant to Eli. The fool would probably die defending the bound paper and Finn want sure whether to laugh or feel bad for him. Then, he turned back to Eli with arched brows and a tilted head, the kind of look you'd give a child. And, despite Eli's earlier tone that was meant to be more encouraging than it was patronizing, he mocked him. "Make me a deal, Father. When the day some bastard finally gets me you can be right there while I'm bleedin' out, 'n then you can send my soul to heaven with your magic words."