#piloteds

                   「☪」—» Most, in Toboe's position, would panic. Freak out, scream, cry, try to run. Just the sight of the mark on his wrist, swirling loops that seems almost mesmerizing, would send them into a frenzy. But, instead, he stilled. The sharp smell of antiseptic burned his sensitive nostrils, golden eyes taking in everything around him, head tilted slightly to capture every little sound around him. But there was almost nothing. No indicators of where exactly he was, nothing but the echo of the monotone voice that had just spoken flickering through his mind. He hesitated, mouth working in concentration for a moment. Lips pursed, forehead crinkled in thought. But, in the end, it was his instincts that took over. Whispering in the back of his consciousness, nudging his attention gently to the constant tug in his mind. Telling him to go. Be close to something. Something that washed him in a deep, deep sadness, a dark depth that bordered on insanity.

                   And so Toboe went. He slipped from the bed he had been resting on, feet silent against the hard linoleum. His form seemed to flicker, and suddenly he was on four legs, not two, and his bracelets jangled quietly as he ran, paws slapping lightly against the floor. It was faster this way, and Toboe wanted to run. To get the crawling sensation out of his mind, to find whatever it was that it was urging him towards. And he was getting closer, he could tell. The wolf's tongue lolled out in excitement, tail wagging just the tiniest bit. Whatever was happening, whatever he was caught up in, he was ecstatic. Was this Paradise? Sure, the words the voice had told him had registered, but what if it had lied? The only thing he wanted to do was find the source of that feeling, though. Lick the face of the person who was being drawn towards, make the yawning pit of wailing grief and sadness go away. He wanted to help them.

                   Claws clicking and paws slipping on the artificial surface, Toboe found his mark. A boy, curled up in the corner of one of the hallways, face hidden within the folds of his arms. A whine rose from the wolf's throat, and any thought that it would probably be a better idea to raise up the human illusion before confronting his new "partner" vanished, a few steps bringing him right in front of the other. The bond he could feel in the crevices of his conscious pulsed with the close proximity, and Toboe pushed his wet nose into the crook of the boy's elbow, soft pink tongue finding a cheek, a muffled bark escaping his muzzle.