One was floating in darkness, unconscious and kept away.
Another, barely even looking like a cookie due to decomposition, crawled out of the cold, rushing depths of water.
He crawled onto land, before his entire body contorted. It rebuilt itself, recreating something akin to who had once lived. Though there were differences, such as darker eyes, tattered wings, eye bags, and clothing. The changeling stood, his bones snapping and cracking into place though he seemed eerily unbothered by it.
Silverbell stretched, cracking his neck as he looked around his surroundings. Right back to where he left off, then. He supposed it made things easier, for him. He was finally free from that glorified prison, and he couldn't be happier. Now, he had things to do, tasks to fulfill. His own plans, his nature. So, he was off, remembering the way he came as though he was the one who walked it.
He had similar memories to him, though some were contorted to better fit the changeling's own little world. A hum rang out as he trekked on, though this time no animals greeted him. As though they knew not to come close. They likely did, animals were quite smart on instincts. Until they weren't, that is.
Alas, he wasn't here to think of the mental capacity of animals. He was currently on his way to look for his precious little Vampire. Better to have him back around his finger than to let him wander like a fool. He did that far too much in his memories. It shouldn't be all too difficult, especially for the changeling.
He was back, and Witches did he feel great.