And it’s something Sun picks up immediately. How he stops the moment Sun opened his mouth and how that relaxed body language tenses up when he turns to look at him with, well, Sun can’t tell if that’s annoyance or hatred. He just knows Bentley wore that face a lot whenever he was in a sour mood. It didn’t matter which.
Was it something he did or say?
He SAYS he wasn’t telling a story, but….he could’ve sworn he heard him singing or talking. Weren’t either something like telling a story?
“Ah, I guess it does suck being here.” Did he hate it? Did he hate being stuck here too? Sun can’t say he does. He’s had MORE freedom here than he has back home. He got to swing on the trees for the first time. He’s got to eat whatever he wanted other than what was GIVEN to him for the first time. For the first time ever, Sun was able to make his own decisions without the fear of getting reprimanded and more importantly, the friends he’s made here.
“I was just curious—Erm, I heard you so I wanted to check it out.” He’s plucking the grass between knuckles, but he doesn’t pull them out of their soil. His long monkey tail wraps around his right ankle when he asks his next question, “Can I hear it again?”
Of course, this stranger’s request irritates Owen to no end. The ridiculousness of this situation, amplified with the fact that, at this current moment, he’s more vulnerable than he’s ever been, makes Owen want to lash out. He decides right then and there that this place is sickening, and it will always be sickening. The longer he sits here talking to this stranger, the further to the edge Owen is pushed. He makes his strong feelings of distaste known through his face alone, with eyes like a hawk on this person, glancing at their tale for a moment. So, this one isn’t human either. Perhaps that would make the world of difference, or, should, but still, Owen doesn’t care. He could leave. But there are also animals on his lap.
“Are you daft, by any chance?” He asks so normally, so naturally, as though the answer is already obvious to him. Maybe this stranger is daft for thinking they can continue to very willingly bother him like this, but then Owen is reminded of his situation again, and his face recoils into a look of disgust. His own nails are digging into the ground now. Don’t get him wrong, of course. Even someone as annoying as this boy right here, it would take a significant amount more to truly get under him. Owen does wonder, despite his predicament, if it’s worth trying to feed off this boy’s negative energy or not.
“No. Why would you want to hear it again? Why would you think I’d listen to you.” He begins to smile. “Isn’t it a waste, anyway? You’re stuck here, just like the rest of us. Maybe there’s no hope here. What if this is a dead end? What if you’re only asking me to sing, because you’ve lost reason to do anything else here. What if your life has become that meaningless.”
