[He smiles, and in his mind he's not the one putting on a brave face. He's not scared... he doesn't even remember dying. It's like it didn't even happen. Does it count, if he can't remember it and came back to life? Nene is the one who had to watch. She's the one who would've suffered, not him.
Add fidgets with the knife in his hand, testing the grip, rotating it between his fingers in a practiced motion... anyway, if something does appear, he'll be ready. He's survived on his own before. He won't let go.
Together, they step out from the mist and into the fog...
It seems the same, at first... but there's something in the air that he can't quite place. The trees hang around them like a crowd, bumping shoulders, lightly tickling at his sides... was it always so dense out here? Did they take a different path? He stumbles, squeezing her hand so he doesn't lose it, lifting his head up to more branches—scraping, leaves in his face, another root blocking his foot.
Something isn't right. He stops, raising a hand to swipe the branches away, the edge of his knife glowing brightly—]
1/2
Add fidgets with the knife in his hand, testing the grip, rotating it between his fingers in a practiced motion... anyway, if something does appear, he'll be ready. He's survived on his own before. He won't let go.
Together, they step out from the mist and into the fog...
It seems the same, at first... but there's something in the air that he can't quite place. The trees hang around them like a crowd, bumping shoulders, lightly tickling at his sides... was it always so dense out here? Did they take a different path? He stumbles, squeezing her hand so he doesn't lose it, lifting his head up to more branches—scraping, leaves in his face, another root blocking his foot.
Something isn't right. He stops, raising a hand to swipe the branches away, the edge of his knife glowing brightly—]