[ he didn't expect to wake up. thoughts filter in and out of his mind, but not for long before a barrage of sensations assails him. light, mist, and the distinct scent of nature first—but then?
a prickle, nagging at the edges of his consciousness. after that? an itch. nowhere physical, but instead just out of reach—like an itch that can't quite be scratched.
it's really annoying.
his lips slant in a disgruntled line as he hops up and onto his feet, thoughts of the trial and execution suspended so he can fully take in his surroundings and meander about. what's this about a flash of incongruous orange in the garden bushes, now? is this something he can find or interact with?! ]
no subject
a prickle, nagging at the edges of his consciousness. after that? an itch. nowhere physical, but instead just out of reach—like an itch that can't quite be scratched.
it's really annoying.
his lips slant in a disgruntled line as he hops up and onto his feet, thoughts of the trial and execution suspended so he can fully take in his surroundings and meander about. what's this about a flash of incongruous orange in the garden bushes, now? is this something he can find or interact with?! ]