"You have to count to ten," Wendy instructed, holding up one finger to hold Wes' attention, who listened intently with a little smile playing on his lips. He was quite certain he knew how to play hide and seek, but he didn't mind the little girl going over the rules again -- just in case. The mime sat cross-legged in the grass, Wendy pacing in front of him and giving him the lowdown on the game she'd picked out for them to play. Not that playing a game had been her idea in the first place; that was on his part. He had a very paternal behaviour around Wendy, and he sort of insisted on doing things one might do with their child or younger sibling with her. She never seemed to really mind. In fact, she had even seemed excited by the prospect of playing -- she'd called being the first to hide. Wes was happy to be the seeker.When she was good and ready, figuring she'd told Wes what he needed to be told, she nodded at him. "Ready?"Wes had nodded back, and then closed his eyes (Wendy had made sure he really shut them), holding up all ten fingers -- he was going to count down on them. He hummed softly to let her know the game had begun, and then began to go backwards from ten.Ten, nine, eight...He heard her rush off, apparently eager to get into her hiding spot.Seven, six, five...Only one hand remained up, Wes lowering the other when he had counted off the first five seconds.Four, three, two, one.The mime took a deep breath, and then let forth a sharp whistle. Ready or not, here he comes!Drawing himself to his full height, Wes allowed himself a cursory glance of his surroundings, checking for any obvious signs of the child. There... wasn't much of any real hint anywhere. She must be good at this! A determined smile lit up his features, and he began to do his job as the seeker.He was very enthusiastic about this at first, looking all over the general area -- behind rocks and bushes, peering up into leaves of trees, even kneeling down before a hollowed out log which served as a den for a family of catcoons... he found the little feline who owned it, and left with a scratch to the cheek, but no Wendy.His patience gradually began to run thin, but it was not replaced by agitation. It was substituted by panic. He simply could not make heads or tails of where she could have possibly ran off to, and a deep sense of dread settled into his chest. He darted here and there, and he still didn't find her -- he began to call for her, yelling her name into an indifferent blue sky. She didn't answer."Wendy?" Wes rounded a small cluster of trees, still looking, and she was not here, either. He was about to turn back when something at the base of one of the evergreens caught his interest. Approaching it uneasily, he stooped down to pick up what had been discarded there: a small red flower, the one that belonged tucked in the small girl's hair. And that absolutely terrified him. "Wendy? Wendy!" He wheezed, spinning around on his heel and rushing forward in a blind panic. "--Wendy!" His eyes flickered open, and he found himself staring up at an obsidian sky, the dying fire at his side. It'd all been a little nightmare -- he just hoped she was really okay.