FATHER INTO YOUR HANDS / development

[spacexual]

i heard you were looking like the moon — tags

Visions pass through him, and he is, for certain, aware that this forest is one he's not gotten to see many times before. In fact, this is the only forest he has gotten to see so personally. He can acknowledge just his presence here alone was something special to him in ways that no one else could fully realize - in ways he could not even truly realize himself. Not right now, anyway. He knows there was a purpose to him, and that he was stuck, and that he did not like any of it. He knows, vaguely, it was very, very bad. But those memories that had been so clear are now just blurs and feelings. Ones that he struggled to think of in the present.

So many feelings.

Tanglewood wasn't always his home, and he was not even truly a tiger, but where he had been before, who had been with him before - it was all just emotions now. The boy, however, is no longer on fire. And, he does not feel particularly threatened by the idea of it happening anytime soon, either. He knows he had been avoiding destruction, but now no even a spark seems to whisper towards him. Just a dripping body, standing within a place he has taken refuge in. One he has accepted an individual as family within.

That very individual was making his entrance now, causing the boy to stop in his tracks, remaining quiet as the hellhound spoke up. He mentions an event happening, but that event is no longer present in his mind. Like before Tanglewood, it has joined a mixture of feelings. Though, he's sure, that event must have lead him to where he finds himself now. The boy does not bother to ask of it now, however. Instead, he will reply to the questions he received."I think I fell into the ocean." He states quietly, looking to Wormwood with an almost distant gaze. "I don't remember why." It was the best explanation he could give.

Now, more arrives. But, he does not recognize this next canine. His glowing gaze trails over to him cautiously, head held low as he takes in the male's size. A simple remark was given, an offer to grab a towel. The boy doesn't find himself too bothered by the feeling. In fact, discomfort, he's found, was something he'd not cared much about at all in each situation he can recall. It was the least of his worries. He blinks silently, having no immediate response for the male.

Another face now, too, and this one he does recognize. A pink cat that spoke to him between the flames, seeming to have a concern about her he didn't understand. His head lifts slightly as she comments over his wet fur, too. They were all more worried about his physical state than he'd expect. "You all don't need to worry..." he'd then speak up, tilting his head with tense shoulders. He was not so bothered by it, after all. "Don't trouble yourselves, please."

Something, certainly, is different. Has anyone seen the boy speak so many sentences at once?