Larksong Grotto defuse your private bomb

He stared at the dark of his surroundings, not really seeing anything - not that there was anything to look at - and seemed to drift, to sway. 'Stare too long and your face will stay frozen -' The boy did not respond to the man's voice, and didn't seem to hear that of the lady's. If he did, he did not immediately respond. ('Your name is Tryphon - ?') Only sort of... Took a few steps, like he was wading through deep water.

The poor boy looked very tired. And, well, he was. His head was throbbing; if anyone got close enough, they'd have felt the heat radiating from his skin. Hot to the touch, despite the chill and the dampness in the grotto. He blinked a few times, and suddenly mumbled, "Tryphon..." As if the name was truly foreign to him. His expression went from blank to agitated, to confused, and back to blank.

No, Larus.

The ocean had given him that name - but what was he before? "My mother called me that." He slurred softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself, or.. He had forgotten he had any company at all. A dampness sprang to his vision, and the crescents of his eyes became misted. He blinked a few more times to clear his vision. He was suddenly looking at Tyrr then, watching him but also not. "Are you from the sea? Has mother.. Has she returned for me?"

The sea does not want you.

Before an answer could be given (although there'd likely be no answer for such mindlessness from the boy) he sank to his haunches with a sigh. "No, I was lost..."