[ P ] Too Much

The world around his was moving. He could feel it spinning beneath his paws and he could not catch his balance as he fell through the darkness. An endless, dreamless void stretched beyond him but somewhere, there was a light. Gwydion's mind's eye focused on that light and the briefest thoughts entered his being. Am I dead...? he thought.

How could that be possible?

He reached for the light, extending a paw... one before the other. Then he was running somehow. His mind soared through the darkness, drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. Eventually the world stopped moving and the darkness became a bright, sunny room. Gwydion's blue eyes blinked open and he lifted his head off the ground. He looked around, finding himself in his room and feeling a strange heaviness in his very bones. His mouth was dry and his head was pounding but he was not dead. He was alive.

The door opened to reveal his sister, Orlaith, and she screamed at the sight of him. Gwydion's ears flicked back and he looked up at her, confused. She rushed to his side with some water, urging him to drink and he did. He gulped the cold liquid down greedily before clearing his throat and asking her what was going on. Why did he feel so strange, as if he had been sleeping for entirely too long.

...

Well, it turns out, he had been sleeping for too long. Five long years, in fact. When she told him all that happened, his blood ran cold and yet he felt on fire like he suffered a fever. He could not believe his ears yet he knew Orlaith would not lie to him. He knew that the darkness, the void, had been some strange place he'd been trapped and for some reason, only now, he'd woken up.

That had been hours ago.

Now he stumbled through Perth on shaky paws. He tried to get his bearings but felt out of sorts. He didn't know what he was doing or where he was going but he had to get out of that house. The house where his parents and grandmother had died shortly before he tumbled into the dark slumber. He knew not what happened to Elias and the children yet, he'd not asked of them or even of Arran before he'd rushed out of the house much to his sisters requests not to. He would be back later to sort it all out but right now he had to see for himself who walked the streets of Perth.

A new King, a strange affliction, time passed... it was all so much to take in. Soara was no more, apparently and he assumed his status with the school was gone. Just like that he was listless and without a focus. What was he going to do when everyone he knew might be dead or gone or old? What of Aurora and his other friends? He blinked, feeling a moisture in his eyes and shaking his head. "Damn it!" he said roughly as he stumbled down the street. What the fuck was he going to do now?

"speech"

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He had been settling in for about two weeks now, here in the Highlands. The last of his things had been delivered yesterday, and he was just sorting through the package wondering why in the world he thought he needed to bring the entire tome collection of The Secret Life of Hummingbirds: an Intensive Study into three separate species and the hidden lives they lead. At this point, it was more a comfort read than anything (if one could call research notes with sprinkles of storytelling a comfort read) (which he could and did)— he’d already read it at least a dozen times, and could probably recreate the whole thing from memory if he had to. But no matter; he’d managed to find a spot on a rickety old shelf in the tiny, forlorn cabin that would serve as a good-enough temporary home for the Spring. Come Summertime, he would have to return to the College to report his findings. Unless, of course, he could extend his research grant. That would have to come at a later time though. Arthur left his humble little hobble at the edge of town to head to the citycenter (if one could even call it that, with dirt roads and potholes littering the main square). Even though it was nothing like Capital where Arthur now lived, he was quite fond of it. It reminded him of his childhood trips as not much had changed-- like the town was stuck in time. Perhaps it was, like so many others. With his dark cloak secured tightly around his neck and covering his entire lithe frame, he went about his shipping in the light, sleeting spring rain. He'd just gotten a bundle of herbs tucked safely away in his satchel when he heard a taught: "Damn it!" Arthur turned his slender ears toward the direction of the curse, honey eyes following. There, stumbling through the street, was a man clad in rich reds and looking entirely out of sorts. Curiosity sparked in him, setting his body more rigid as he watched for a moment. He looked disoriented and disheveled... perhaps.... Delicate paws carried him at a careful trot toward the stranger, and he slowed with light caution as he approached. "Hi there," he tried somewhat tentatively. This could be what he thought it was, or the stranger could just be having an entirely terrible day and wouldn't want to be disturbed. "I just, I heard you from over there," he made a nonsensical motion to where he'd come from, "and ... Are you feeling okay?" there was no not-awkward way to start up a random conversation with a stranger, was there? Can't just go up to them and say "Hello Good Sir, it looks like you may have suffered from the Fae Fog; care to tell me all about it?" No, he could never be that forward, even if the law didn't lightly forbid it.

STOCK➤ Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

The tapping of claws on cobble alerted him to the presence of another, along with the sweet scent of some fruit he couldn't name at the moment. It intermingled with the smell of something... older... paper, perhaps? He lifted his head to see another man approaching him, clad in grayish fur with piercing golden eyes. Gwydion stared at him for probably for an amount of time his mother would consider rude, then cleared his throat and shook his head. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb anyone," he said, licking his lips as he felt his mouth run dry.

He swayed a little as he looked back towards the unknown wolf that had approached him, debating on just how much he could actually trust him. The answer was probably not at all, because they were indeed strangers to one another, but Gwydion liked giving others the benefit of the doubt -- despite everything.

"But no... I-I don't think I'm alright. I... was apparently asleep, or something, for... for..." he stumbled over his words, not sure what or how to say this. His sister had told him he was not the only one afflicted by this madness but it all sounded so fantastical and preposterous he just couldn't be certain she wasn't playing some horrific trick on him. Yet when he looked around, he saw nobody familiar, things looked different somehow and yet the same. He swallowed and returned his ocean blue gaze to Arthur. "My sister says I was asleep for about five years. Is that true? Is... Saora gone? King Jacob? Adamh?" he asked. If this wolf he did not know confirmed what he had been told then perhaps he wasn't going crazy after all.

"speech"

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