It started with denial that bled into hope. They had all felt it at one point or another—it was naive, they knew—but they were young and to be young was to have faith that the impossible would become truth. However, they all learned fairly quickly that the only impossible act in this world would be the freedom that they so desperately craved; from that the hope crumbled into broken acceptance which then became an apathetic numbness that would drive you into madness. It was their way, it was the path that Ingram himself was sure that he would follow until he inevitably fell victim to his demons or took his life before they could completely consume him—it was fact, this was acceptance, and the numbness that crawled through his limbs was not surprising. He was a child, he supposed, but that didn't matter in their family: you had no childhood here, you were forced into maturity before you even understood what was happening. You normalized the trauma because you had no other choice, if you didn't you would not survive long.

Ingram paused, breathing in as he attempted to shake the darkening thought from his mind—now wasn't the time to get so lost in his mind, especially when he had absolutely no idea where the fuck he was. Wincing slightly, the maned wolf lifted a paw to his head, blinking rapidly as he forced the pounding of his migraine to subside just enough for him to be able to think about what he was going to do next. ( three days, it had been three days ). He was so fucking exhausted that he could feel it all the way in his bones but he knew he could go a little longer, could push a little harder before things went to shit again. His vision blurred slightly and he snapped his eyes closed. Breath, he just had to breath through it. The yawn that escaped his mouth released some of the tension in his body and the sharp pain in his head subsided a small amount—it was still agony but at least he could somewhat bear it now.

However, it was the sound of something nearby that caught his attention. His head snapped in the direction of the noise, hissing painfully as his brain seemingly smashed against his skull and the pounding of his heart echoed throughout his head. Real? Not real? Real? Not Real? No, he was sure he had heard it... right? He felt his shoulders roll back and his lips pull down into a frown as he tried to clear the blur from his eyes enough to at least make out enough of the surrounding area to not be slaughtered where he stood.

"Who the fuck is there?"

[size=9pt]"Another one?" Comes Moon's cynical voice, stepping out from the undergrowth to tower over Gabriel. He glances the stranger over with a gaze simultaneously begrudging and attentive, searching for symptoms but sardonic about it, all the same. "Some fuckin' epidemic going on out there we don't know about?" He says, raising a brow. The Ascendants' excellent bedside manners, as Gabe had so lovingly christened them, hadn't changed in the slightest. That's not to say Moon won't help. He's just- curious as to why so many joiners are turning up with mysterious health issues. And sue him for not taking so kindly to having to raid his own poppy seed stash for the sake of some newbie's headache. "We'll get you something for it. Gotta' keep up the good rep." A pause, considering. "You joining, though? Or did you just stumble upon our humble abode by accident?"