ㅤ As is the way of lost souls; the boy wanders aimlessly throughout the Hideaway. On rare occasion do his steps come to a halt, only to watch a random individual for a moment or two, before carrying on to the next. He bares no interest to interact, but, to simply observe. ㅤ

ㅤ Then, another stop in motion. But now he lowers his head down, down towards the effigy held between his fingers. 〝That makes another one. Where do they all go, I wonder...?〞 ㅤ

ㅤ 〝The people here, they come, and they go...〞 Void of any real tone, he's responds without so much as lifting his gaze to meet her. Though he continues to muse aloud to himself. 〝But to where? And for what?〞 ㅤ

ㅤ 〝If you all do not like that man, then why not dispose of him?〞 With Gav being the man in question. ㅤ

ㅤ Puzzled, the youth tilts his head to one side. 〝I do not understand.〞 ㅤ

ㅤ It doesn't have to be. —— Yet before Silas can promise him an undoing as painless as it is beautiful, the scout draws his attention elsewhere. 〝Our friends—?〞 And who might they be, he wonders? What makes a 'friend'? 〝Are we... friends?〞 ㅤ

you were blessed, they had said, not the sands to grapes or water to wine type, but blessed as the lamb laid down upon god's altar.

mother, why don't you look at me? i'm not a mirror of my father, your blood is in me too.

ㅤ 〝So they are dead, then?〞 It is only now that the youth lifts his head to meet the healer, his expression unmoved by emotion like that of a porcelain dolls. 〝... How unfortunate.〞 ㅤ ㅤ

ㅤ Everyone in the hideaway—? Silas hadn't realised he had so many... His dull eyes now staring at the squatted scout, as a small hand hesitantly takes a hold of Gav's gloved pinky finger. 〝Then that must mean... you and I are friends, too?〞 ㅤ

ㅤ Sat picking at the scabs and scrapes covering his bruised knees. The lady in the infirmary kept scolding him for it... and so, he has brought his foul habit out for the rest of the hideaway to see instead. ㅤ