Sun Mote Copse Man or machine.

The woman had to get pretty close to Perdition before she broke through the memory he was reliving. He found her, walking towards him, and though he could not, yet, move his legs, his blue eyes trailed her. She said his name, and that seemed to help drag him back from the precipice in his mind. 

’I’m Towhee. Are you okay…?’

He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, and managed to find the control of his legs again. He made himself sit down, head bowed, for a moment, collecting himself. He would not get struck again. The rain would not hurt him. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, nodding to her. “I’m… fine,” he said, slowly. His shoulders and back twitched from muscle and nerve damage. It was a lie—he was not fine, but she did not need to know the inner battle he was currently facing. “You are… one of the leaders, correct?” he asked, trying to come up with some kind of conversation in light of their strange meeting.