#quick concept

he doesn’t just enjoy it, no; it is the life that circulates through his veins. he can almost feel the outside calling to him when he is all wrapped up indoors- the trees, mostly, and the secrets they hide within their forests.

they seem to know him better than he knows himself, and if he’s patient enough, they’re eager to share what they’ve learned about his flickering mind. setting his back up against the rough bark of a trunk, he drags long fingers through sap as they open his mind with eyes closed, simply feeling. experiencing. being.

there is truly something about the smell of the wind that draws him in. he’s always outside, wandering between the trees, trying to keep himself from thinking too much.

most don't understand what the forest means to pete, and he's learned to accept that some people just won't be able to get it, not to any fault of their own. sometimes, he thinks the forest selects certain people. when warm golden light filters through the treetops and meets his tired skin, he can't help but think that way, can't help but think how special it can be to be alive.

through past clumsiness, he’s learned to walk quietly, as to not disturb the peace that cushions his mind. he can lose himself in the forest, mind searching for millennia or more for meaning. the path is never gone, though- his feet know the hidden deer-made trails better than his brain knows his heart.

he watches every sunrise like it’s his last, sleepless eyes carefully tracing over the clouds and bursts of color that illuminate them. in some ways, he knows it is his last sunrise- there will never be another one that touches the sky the same way, that touches his mind the same way. each time the light floods the dark shadows and chases away the doubt, hate, and hurt, it is a gift from the sun, announced in singing color.