[Staying put is, at least, an easy thing for him to do right now. He's curled up on a branch of a large oak tree, hugging his knees to his chest and clutching his phone, his grass still twitching every so often. It's a little cooler amongst the leaves, and he's high enough up that he's a bit further away from any stray herbicide gases that made their way over to the pond.
He sits there quietly, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to picture the Tree Fort. But it's hard, the memory isn't quite feeling like it should be. Like it isn't actually his home, and it isn't actually his memory. It's just a facsimile he's just thinking of, one that's tilted enough to be too off-kilter and fuzzy around the edges to really be considered a good copy.
He keeps trying to picture it anyways. Trying is better than thinking about anything else. He only pauses when he hears Varian's voice. There's a few beats before he yells back.]
no subject
He sits there quietly, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to picture the Tree Fort. But it's hard, the memory isn't quite feeling like it should be. Like it isn't actually his home, and it isn't actually his memory. It's just a facsimile he's just thinking of, one that's tilted enough to be too off-kilter and fuzzy around the edges to really be considered a good copy.
He keeps trying to picture it anyways. Trying is better than thinking about anything else. He only pauses when he hears Varian's voice. There's a few beats before he yells back.]
I'm up here.