Warden doesn't look over his shoulder when the strangers appear. There's something about them... they draw him in. A moth to flame. Gaze glimmering ever so softly as he approaches the trio, he needs... he needs to know. He needs to know who they are. For some reason, it makes sense to Warden why they've come.
They were... here for him? He'd been having some weird dreams ever since getting so sick. Ever since the flood. Ever since things had damn near been turned upside down. Was he allowed to use the word damn in his own head? Mom didn't have to know. It seemed like things of that sort hurt her feelings. Right, back to the three strangers. It's without hesitation or second thoughts that Warden steps to the side of the solid, grey man. Looking up into his stern face, the boy was admittedly curious. "Where are we going?" The words spoken brightly, clearly. Warden was quite composed for a boy of his age, at least.
