[Again, an immediate response wells up in the back of his throat - something adequately snapped out, probably scathing in some manner or another. And again, he has to counter the urge with a question of whether that's really him thinking it. It has to be. Doesn't it?
He can't spend every minute of every day second-guessing himself. He can't.]
Yeah, well. I don't like getting lost in the woods.
[You got lost in woods you've never been in?
He shakes away the shreds of memory, shoulders hunching lightly.]
no subject
He can't spend every minute of every day second-guessing himself. He can't.]
Yeah, well. I don't like getting lost in the woods.
[You got lost in woods you've never been in?
He shakes away the shreds of memory, shoulders hunching lightly.]