[hr][center][color=808B96][color=ff00f5][h2][b]Yony[/b][/h2][/color] Southeastern Mir - Sculpture Copse, The Fall[/color][/center] [hr] He’d thrown his backpack on the ground in front of him, hastily opening it as the woman approached and starting to dig around in it, her greeting lost on him. "[color=F0FFFF]You look like life just got you with a sucker punch.[/color]" He’d started throwing what looked like paper trash out of the thing. The interior of the backpack was filled with a ream of old papers in what looked like no such order. Some brown with age, others not quite so old, either way they didn't look to be of any use and many weren’t even in a readable language. Papers caught in the wind, one slapping her in the face. [center][hider=*FWAP*][img]https://i.imgur.com/EJwF47m.png[/img][/hider][/center] She pulled the paper away, blinking and putting it down before trying again, "[color=F0FFFF]Any idea why those pirates were after your pilot in the first place? They had to want him pretty bad, to risk the no-fly zone in the first place.[/color]" He grunted, “[color=ff00f5]Not ma circus, not ma monkeys,[/color]” very quickly as he pulled out more papers. He scowled at the pile of very aged looking school assignments before sneering and ripping them in half and tossing them aside. He pulled out another small pile and tossed them to the side as well, another catching in the wind and sticking to Nikki. [center][hider=*FWAP*][img]https://i.imgur.com/vkNhpso.png[/img][/hider][/center] The creature behind him was talking, but it seemed like the boy was ignoring him. Though his question made to Otter pause and look annoyed. It was really surprising just how much trash was in the backpack, it seemed like every pocket was stuffed with hoarded papers. The sudden cleaning spree the boy was on was beginning to look like some kind of nest around him. He obviously ignored Xell’s questioning and snatched the paper from Nikki, holding it tightly in his hands and glaring at it as if trying to disintegrate the thing with hate alone for solid moments before the boy snapped out, “[color=ff00f5]Fokkin’ burn already! Just BURN![/color]” Silence hit suddenly after that, the Dragon’s hands clenching and unclenching. “[color=6495ED]What do you expect me to do?[/color]” This time he halted, looking around him with a sudden change of expression from annoyance to panic. He quickly started grabbing the papers and reading over them, putting certain ones back beside each other. Another gust of wind blew some of them further into the woods. The panic deepened to desperation as the youth started madly grabbing the papers and trying to stuff them back into his pack before they blew away too. The dragon-like creature pushed his unanswered question further. "[color=6495ED]I can't control what's happened.[/color]" The boy stopped suddenly again, eyes taking on a shocked expression. He released the wad papers he was holding and sunk visibly. Picking the piece of paper with map back up and looking at it. The creature looked down on a piece of paper the Youth was holding as well. To him it was some sort of a map. Not the most professionally crafted one he had ever seen. He recognized the Fall on the map, but that was about it. Everything else orbiting the origin they were in was completely alien. To the boy it was a reminder of reality, that even if he knew where he was, even if he could get back to where he started… home was still gone, so was the family that had been there. "[color=6495ED]Nikki, you could do with some art lessons.[/color]" The boy watched with an air of helplessness as the crumpled papers he’d tried to stuff back into his bag scooted around, tumbling back out the bag and across the ground on their own. It didn’t matter anymore, he’d already screwed it up, there was no way to get them all back. He reached in and pulled a photo out, placing it with the map. [center][hider=Summer of ‘65][img]https://i.imgur.com/xPy1tsa.png[/img][/hider][/center] “[color=ff00f5]No Water... No Moon.[/color]” The accent was gone again, the words were spoken with equal amounts fatigue and relief. The Procyon stranger put a hand on his shoulder, making him go rigid with tension. He tried to listen but the words just didn’t parse while she was holding on to him. Something about moving on, he just felt irritated again, jerking his shoulder away from the woman and souring his expression again. He knocked the remaining papers away from his pack and put the map and picture back in among the what, to the others, would look like more sensible things to carry before zipping the pack and stand to move away from the woman and turning his back to the woods so he could watch the growing group.