Chapter Text
The first thing notes is the mud he's surrounded in.
It's soft, squishy, and wet. The blood is the next thing, his body burns and aches in a tauntingly familiar way, and his weight feels off balance. He takes note of the missing limbs-three. Two near his rib on the left- and one on the right. He's bleeding- a lot. The second thing he does is take note of his surroundings. He's in a forest, the mud around him has faint foot prints. A fox is sat nearby, watching him. There's a cliff above, blood seems to trickle from the steep end of it. There must've been a fight- and if so, he seemed to have lost, but if it was merely a chase, then perhaps he won.(if you ignore the missing limbs, that is.)
The man finally stands up, his legs burn, he winces at the pain as he moves his weight onto a stump rather than his aching feet. The fox laughs at him, it mocks him as though it knows more. He wonders why he was chased, and hurt, why he can't seem to recall his name- or purpose. For now, all he can do is tear off bits of his clothing, and try to tend to the wounds, before they grow infected- and kill him.
He feels this sense of longing, and anxiety. Like he needs to be somewhere. 'Do you know?' He tries to act the fox, but his voice comes out as a hoarse scratchy sound. So he simply shuts his mouth. The fox cackles at that. He decides that the moment he can, he will kill the infuriating animal. The wind seems to be calling him, beckoning him closer. Perhaps the wind knows of his purpose, his journey and goal.
I'll sleep again.' He decides, the moment he had stopped all the bleeding.
I'll sleep, and if the animals don't eat me, tomorrow I will walk, and I will answer to it's call.'