No, that's not right. I know what I — hey!
The man's slurred speech could've marked him as a drunkard, except it was the dead of winter and to expect anything to have survived through the other seasons was a pipe dream. His voice carried along the ridge; it was fortunate that in his dream-walking he'd managed to shout like that, or he'd have gone over the edge.
The sound of clattering stones further dredged him out of sleep. He wasn't home in the Hearthwood; the trees here were flame-licked and black within the hallucination, and seemed to moan around him in a familiar display. He thought of Onyx Hollow, which sparked the vision further to a violent blinding white light, and he stumbled back from this, squinting and afraid.
As he backed in to something solid, he came to a stop and sank in to the snow. What he saw around him wasn't a forest at all but fire, and the white of falling snow was black smoke, spooling out of where his legs met the ground. He was the smoke; he was the ruin, and around him the world burned. The only sound from him after that was a pitiful whine.
A wood once lit aflame by its vibrant canopy, now snuffed by the chill breath of winter. Abel Redleaf dragged along a grave of red-turned-black leaves. The frosted earth sent a shiver through his spine with every other step.
His spindly body craved for some sort of warmth tonight, a wink of rest even. The gnawing at his belly protested. It guided him through the wood more so than his mind, and it’d receive no aid other than an ear on standby.
Disturbance traveled through the wind. Not the rustling of a rodent, or the fluttering of bird’s wing. Something, though it was impossible to discern without traveling to its source. So forward he went. The closer he believed he was, the less careless his steps became.
Abel had crept upon a scent trail nearly lost from memory. Another wolf, they had to be near. Sure enough he’d soon find a whimpering mass of soot in the snow.
Hello?
He approached the other with hesitance. Hey, are you ok?
Through the dark of it all, there came a creeping figure. At first they looked translucent as if carved of sheer ice. There was no way something like that could exist with all the fire around him! His mind went to overcorrect, and he saw the shape of the wolf take true form. He saw his father's face where the stranger's face should've been; and when they spoke, their mouth hinged as wide as an eel's, splitting on either side — like mother.
Their words were garbled. Hypnos heard it in reverse.
ko uoy era yeh?
He cowered and pressed himself in to the dirt, having crushed the snow already and sprawled in a way that dredged up mud, and as a result he was truly hurting himself with the urge to be small. Grinding himself in to the grit.
editing in an ending since Hypnos is NPC! if you'd like to pick this up at any point lmk <3
It's though his words were poison. The man sunk deeper into himself. Should he defy physics and be swallowed into the earth, Abel would only be half shocked.
I won't hurt you or anything...
Perhaps the stranger would find more comfort in Abel's retreat than his word. His body lowered as he slunk back. Only when he'd given the man room to breathe did he hesitantly speak up again.
See? We're, uh, cool.
But despite an admittedly terrible attempt in solace, the man stayed wound up tight. Not being one to deviate from his solitary nature, Abel took that as a sign to shuffle away from the scene.