backwards from ten

Quote: Eyes opened like a dusty trapdoor. The scene of the swarm engulfed the male's senses as consciousness lit up one piece at a time. He was alive. What a cruel twist of fate that was! Who was he to blame, he wondered, as he regained a good part of what he was before the 'incident'. Shadows seemed hungry here, beckoning and yet it did not phase him. His choked body moved gracefully and careful in his navigation of the swamp. To the naive eyes, the swamp would be draped in monotony, but the three year old knew far better. It was an isolated place, and as he knew, those areas of isolation often harboured some of the most intriguing stories and ghouls. His eyes flickered from crevice to crevice, from vine to vine and from tree to tree. The temperature was not lacking; the heat created a blanket of comfort. Laurier's memory, although intact, was frayed as if aged a thousand years.



Bugs scattered as he stepped upon a fallen tree. His legs were laced with mud and other features of the swamp, and he steadied himself upon the tree. Finally, he laid down, resting his legs even if a bit perilously. With a glance upwards, he saw the cloudy grey sky. Heat had been reflecting off the clouds, trapped. He himself was no longer trapped, no, but he did not linger on that thought for long as it had proved dangerous in the past. He placed his head onto his long legs, listening carefully to the surroundings and closing his eyes once again. It was peaceful alongside the buzz of insects and the slight shifting of entangled flora, and so he indulged in it for now.