Fairspell Meadow Lepus and the Grand Evasion

Minshi could not see yet, his eyes remained clouded by the never-ending darkness. Even still, he'd wanted to at least try and get away, ignoring the risks that might come from literally wandering blindly. That is, he'd tried to, anyways. When the other had called after him, he'd found himself coming to a wobbly stop, swinging his head around in the direction he thought Cicero was (when, in actuality, he was a little ways off from his mark). His ears fell back in uncertainty, wondering if he could trust the other again, but also wondering if he even had a choice. If he were to live the rest of his life without his sight—at this point, he was certain the effects would last forever—then did he really even have much longer to live? With that type of mentality, he couldn't think of anything that the other could do that would worsen his predicament. It helped, too, that he didn't want to die a selfish boy, ignoring the pleads of another when he could have done something to help.

The star child tried to settle back on his haunches, but couldn't keep still. If it wasn't his legs moving, then it was his head or an appendage. Little twitches here and there, futile attempts at remaining aware of his surroundings despite his inability to see. It took awhile, but he was eventually able to calm his nerves, normalizing his breathing so that no longer was he left panting from anxieties. "Did... did you eat a lot of it?" he questioned, speaking to the space beside Cicero. "Maybe it won't do anything to you." Maybe. If it did, though, shouldn't he know what to expect? Min wanted to help, to prevent someone else from being so suddenly slapped across the face, just as he had been. "The itch..." he began. "It's everywhere." And it wouldn't let up. "My mouth hurts, and my eyes... my eyes..." It was that loss that troubled him the most. "I can't see!"