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[b]"...Agh, that hurts...."[/b]
As the world swam back into view, Kieran first became aware of a burning ache in his right leg. Nothing else hurt, however, which was odd considering how long the fall felt. He wasn't quite sure what had happened. He had just been walking home, stumbled over the curb, and then... it was like he slipped right through the pavement and into an endless void. No way to tell how long he had fallen, nor how long he'd been lying... wherever he was.

He was lying in a crumpled position atop some disgustingly moist pillows, which must have broken his landing. The walls, all of which were close enough to make the boy feel slightly claustrophobic, were made of a metal similar to his Aunt Maeve's kettles, with nonsensical patterns carved into them. A surreal experience, no doubt about it. 

Just as Kieran had managed to sit himself up to have a proper look about the place, a small black animal came into view. Upon closer inspection, Kieran figured out that it was a cat. It was prettier than the knarled strays that wandered the alleys in the darker corners of Belfast... and it talked. 

Kieran flinched back in surprise, barely catching what the cat had said. He blinked confusedly, as if in a vain attempt to process what had happened. [b]"...Now that's just mad as a box of frogs, it is."[/b] He muttered to himself, clearly disturbed but not quite afraid. He was too lost to be afraid. 

The 9 year old made no attempt to communicate with the cat, currently waving his hand in front of his eyes rapidly to check if he was hallucinating. Anything to convince himself he wasn't dead.