For a moment, he thinks someone out here must be fucking with him.
But nothing makes sense - of course not. Not his sudden appearance here, not the abrupt change of season - a whiplash contrast to the autumnal chill of ocean-front.
Still, Number Five's patience is thin at the best of times. Its impulsivity that drives him forward, a blink in space before reappearing where the sound had been, stick held up, pine sap across his palms as he lands, kicking up snow from the careened momentum.
He isn't stupid - this feels like walking into a trap. Descending blindly into freezing waters, and all that. But even if it is, perhaps it will get him a step closer to something other than a bonedeep chill.
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But nothing makes sense - of course not. Not his sudden appearance here, not the abrupt change of season - a whiplash contrast to the autumnal chill of ocean-front.
Still, Number Five's patience is thin at the best of times. Its impulsivity that drives him forward, a blink in space before reappearing where the sound had been, stick held up, pine sap across his palms as he lands, kicking up snow from the careened momentum.
He isn't stupid - this feels like walking into a trap. Descending blindly into freezing waters, and all that. But even if it is, perhaps it will get him a step closer to something other than a bonedeep chill.