[img=http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm243/jelost/R_zps8d428bff.gif]

Thomas' eyes blinked open, to the sound of movement. He stared at the high, natural canopy that blocked out the sky, trying to understand where he was and how he had gotten here.

Finding that he had absolutely no idea, he simply rubbed his eyes, vaguely remembering the pain that had torn through him. It had apparently left an after-effect, as the boy's body was more sore than it had ever been. Planting his arm on the ground, he swiftly pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing from the pain.

It was then that he saw the source of the movement: three other people. A younger girl, a dark-skinned boy, and a small man who seemed to be in his late twenties.

Confusion overrode any panic Thomas may have felt. The boy rubbed some dirt off the back of his head as he studied the others. The older man picked something up, and inspected it. The girl moved towards him, curious about what he had picked up. The other boy stood back.

None of them seemed to know anymore about where they were than he did, and they didn't look particularly threatening - if it came to blows, Thomas felt that only the dark-skinned boy would be of any danger. 

That was until he opened his mouth. Thomas frowned disapprovingly at his words. He was... meek. He eyed the boy further, trying to figure out his game. Manipulate others into helping him by acting weak and harmless.

Thomas decided he'd play along.

He pushed himself to his feet, and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, giving him a confident and reassuring smile.

"No need to be so worried," he said, looking at the shiny object. "See? Just a key..." Thomas then noticed the mass of roots that seemed to contain the remains of a human. "...huh. That's disconcerting."

Despite how strange and confusing the whole situation was, Thomas couldn't help but feel a little excited. It seemed like the beginning of a story - his own story. 

He stepped away from the dark-skinned boy, moving to squat in front of the coffin-of-sorts. He took note of the strange vial of liquid and still-intact robe, understanding that this person hadn't been killed too long ago, but what really caught his eye was the scabbard and the knife it seemed to contain. That was something he'd rather not let fall into the hands of the strangers around him, but he couldn't very well take it himself without seeming suspicious.

Thomas decided to go on the hope that none of them would be bold enough to stick their hands inside.

He turned his head to face the others, still sitting on his haunches. "Looks like this fellow wasn't all that lucky," he said with a tilted smile, trying to make light of the situation. 

It was then that his eye caught movement along the ground. He stopped dead for a moment, not understanding what he was seeing - some sort of root that was [i]moving[/i] on it's own and...

His eyes snapped open. "Girl!" he yelled as the root quickly wrapped itself around her ankle.

In the moment of panic, he realized he had the excuse he needed. 

Whipping back around towards the cocoon, he hastily plunged his hand through one of the holes, aiming to grab the knife and cut the root.