I don`t know what I am Doing ;D

Mono still had his eyes closed beneath the paper bag fit over his head, which was reassuring that he once again had his bag. The strange part was that he didn’t remember how he got onto soft moss when he remembered passing out on a stone in the middle of the rapids after he finally grabbed hold. He had hoisted himself out of the water and collapsed onto the rock, too tired and half drowned to move much more. The chill from the freezing water settled into his bones and dragged him under. He almost expected to die right there. As long as he was free from The Signal Tower now, it had almost sounded nice.

Instead of being left to die on the cold stone in the middle of the unforgiving rapids, he was laying on his back atop a soft cushion of moss with his coat missing and dried ferns with other foliage stacked on top of him to act as a blanket, which surprisingly worked. He was still shivering, but he didn’t succumb to hypothermia and it didn’t seem as though he had lost any extremities to the bitter cold of the night.

Curious as to how he got here, he blinked open his eyes against the bright… sunlight? There was actually sunlight… something he hadn’t seen for years. The warm yellow rays tenderly rested on him, as if giving him a welcoming hug. It was luckily at an angle, though, where it wasn’t too bright, as if it was a setting sun just out of his sight enough that he wasn’t blinded by it.

He attempted to sit up, but gave a poorly hidden groan as the bruises littering his body made themselves known to him. Nothing he couldn’t handle, he had survived with much worse. It was just surprising that it was only now that moving an inch of his body caused pain. There was a shuffling of clothes directly across from him, but no words were spoken and no other sounds were heard. Whoever was near him wasn't bothering to get up or get near him. Stifling his groan better this time, he pushed himself into a sitting position, and took in the scene before him.

It was around dusk time, he was correct in his deduction earlier, and there were trees surrounding him on all sides. Behind him, he could still hear the rushing water of the rapids he had been rescued from. In front of him was a large fire (was that what caused his nightmare?), large enough to draw attention of anything in these woods, but he couldn’t complain. He could feel the heat from where he was and there were multiple skewered small critters, mostly frogs, around the fire cooking. Not only that, but his heavy trench coat was spread between two sticks holding it up at the shoulders, drying by the fire.

Lastly, was the person sitting across from him, observing him silently. The child was sitting cross-legged with a smoldering stick they must have been using to poke at the embers of the fire clenched in their hand. They were wearing a pair of puffy, dirt brown pants that tapered at the ankles and a brown poncho. Small animal bones hung from multiple places on the poncho that lay over the of the tan shirt they wore underneath, far enough apart that they couldn’t click together and make sound. The hood of the poncho was drawn up, covering the back of their head, leaving the only skin to be shown being their dirty, scarred feet, as their hands were bandaged even at the fingertips all the way to their elbows. There were two things that really caught his eye and made his heart skip a beat as he stared at them. One, was the porcelain fox mask decorated with elegant red strokes that was covering their face, as if they had decorated it with the blood of those who dared to cross them.

Two was a long scarf that curled itself around their throat loosely, an old knit item that had seen wear and tear. That had likely seen fights and battles with things maybe not quite as small as the child in front of them. It shifted as they observed him, as if it was alive itself. But it was not this about the scarf that made him stare. It was that familiar colour that ignited anger into his heart.

Buttercup yellow.

Slicker yellow.

~~~~~~

My goodness, even with a hidden identity Six cannot resist that colour yellow. Poor Mono hates the colour btw, so meeting this ‘new person’ will be fun.

I’ll try to remember to post here when I can, but I’ll probably be stuck playing LN3 on repeat and trying to write more chapters before I remember Tumblr again.

1.- Reflection (center)

2.- Refraction (sides)

3.- Corrupted (bottom left)

4.- Cleansed (bottom right)

5.- Comrades (upper left)

6.- Rivals (upper right)

and at last!

7.- Cowboy