“Hai there-”

	Every muscle in Pick’s body seized up at the sound of another voice, much like a rusted old tin toy that one day just decided to stop working. A few more words managed to reach Pick’s ears but he hadn’t registered them, only understanding that the sound had come from somewhere behind him. “[i]You’re losing it. You’ve already lost it all but you’re still losing it,[/i]” Pick thought to himself, letting out a slow and uneven snicker as he became sure he was able to feel his mind drifting apart. 

	“Well hallo to yo-,” Pick began to reply, spinning on his heel to cheerfully greet what he had no doubt was only an auditory hallucination. His words were cut short the moment his eyes fell on the humanoid figure before him though, and now completely at a loss Pick could only stare. His breathing became uneven and stressed as he looked the man up and down, both impressed and fearful of how real he looked. He was only a bit shorter than Pick, looking fairly exhausted and wearing simple clothing; dirty white pants and a green shirt. On his belt he still had what looked like scabbards for a sword and a pair knives but the sword’s looked empty and the knives were barely in view being on his back. Pick took a moment to admire the attention to detail put into the little things like the man’s hair and his few minute sunburns, causing a throaty giggle to escape the exhausted miner as a grin cracked across his features. 

	Pick felt like his heart, containing his last bit of hope, had shattered to bits, and he began to question the reality of the hermit whom he’d been travelling with for days. “I wonder where I really am at this point, you know?” Pick laughed, waving a dismissive hand towards the man who had seemingly appeared like magic. “Maybe,” he then began, pointing his shovel towards the man as his amusement boiled into frustration and paranoia. “Maybe,” he then repeated, any shred of what he was going to say having left him. At this point all Pick could think to do was watch the man now, the part of him still believing it was rational wanting to see what his own mind would force this illusion to do. 

Riley held out both arms in a defensive planking position, "Hoy there. We just got our reigns on reality back, reel it in then.", he ordered in a calm fashion. 

"I saw you thrashing about over here.  Heard some people talking, so I wandered back into the brush. I was just wonderin' if you had any water or could point me to some.", his tone was as reasonable as he could muster. Really the bequesting of water was more a ice breaker, Riley couldn’t think of many other ways to strike up a dialogue with at least some semblance of finesse.  

The silence pervaded into the scene, the gravel and grass beneath their feet undisturbed by the lack of wind. Their interaction becoming an intense staring contest. One waiting for the other to say something in contest to the formers question. Light streaked quickly by bows and branches spilling mangled shadows across the Earth. The quiet seemed almost eternal at that moment; as though noise would never run rampant again in these lands.

	Though he didn’t show it, Pick couldn’t help but feel amused. Every one of his thoughts fluxed wildly through a web of concern, twisting the outcome of every course of action he could conceive. For what felt like an eternity the two just stared at each other, Pick occasionally twitching as his muscles unevenly tensed and relaxed. The man had asked for water, and Pick knew he had some but was it worth sharing? He’d shared with the hermit, but he had food- what could this stranger have to offer? “Maybe, but in time. I’ll see how important your puzzle piece is,” Pick eventually replied, lowering his arm so that his shovel rested by his side. This prompted another fit of chuckling as he looked around himself, the laughter before long being consumed by the silence of the forest.