Hideaway Strath Happiness is like glass

Sight was a wondrous, sometimes terrifying thing. There were moments that he forgot a time he'd ever known before, overwhelmed by the fact that he could see and do things. The world was still so interesting and now that he could see them even as fuzzily and poorly as he did. He could tell the difference between light and dark, wiggling his way from the shadows of the den towards the entrance; unknowingly approaching his older sister as she came to visit them.