@basilcrowns / plotted.
darkness. rather familiar, yet stranger still alien. he finally blinks, light restoring his gaze; there's too many things unfamiliar here. the air does not smell right, the scenery doesn't match his memory, even the sounds are off. his senses return slowly, touch being the last--how long has he been sitting here on the ground, clenching fistfuls of grass? his hands tremble. his knees and body feel bruised. sunny only stares in disbelief at the highway that sits a good fifty feet away. there's a concrete barrier severing line of sight between he and any passers-by in their cars.
a blink. another blink. sunny slowly shifts, his body sending flares of pain as if to tell him to back off. whatever adrenaline he had has worn off. his memory fails to inform him why he's here. ( for the better, someone else assures quietly. ) nevertheless, he clambers to his feet, flinching at the stings of pain as he does so. sunny registers movement nearby, and his head snaps in the direction of the sound, his gaze resting on... basil. ( of course he's here. )
sunny can only manage to open his mouth slightly. he has too many questions, but he feels like his throat is too tight; he cannot say anything that he wishes. he simply relies on his trembling posture to communicate that he is overwhelmed. a swift few steps forward, and he is close enough to offer basil a hand--assist in standing.