The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon

Wither POV

Wither found himself riding in the back of one of Vitmori's carriages with Legosi, which Lostrill had fetched from one of the public lots as the group exited the inner city.

He couldn't help but watch as the people came and went, living their lives and doing whatever that entailed as what appeared to be the working day ended, and the nightlife gradually got set up.

As they approached the first major intersection along the main road, which led to the gates to this side of the inner city, Wither noticed that the Boss was also people-watching with what looked to be a slight smile on his face. The man seemed to be eagerly watching as people walked with their families and friends, doing what appeared to be nothing special at all.

Before long, a crossing guard who looked to be working the intersection signaled for Lostrill to pull forward, allowing them to continue down the road with the flow of traffic.

As the minutes ticked by, Wither was suddenly pulled from his thoughts when Vitmori piped up out of nowhere, a charming little grin on his face as he gazed into Wither's eyes. "Do you want to go explore the city? At least for a little bit."

"W-what? What do you mean, Boss?" Wither replied with a vague uncertainty. Sure, he had been thinking about it, but he hadn't planned on acting on those thoughts.

Vitmori chuckled softly at that, leaning back against his seat at the front of the carriage. "I wanted to explore, too, but unfortunately, I'm pretty busy. So, with that said, how about you go and explore for me? Take a walk around, eat some food, and buy a trinket." Vitmori mused as a pouch of what sounded like coin appeared in his hand before passing it over to Wither with a gentle, underhanded throw as he looked at the lizardkin. "Say, Lostrill, how long do you think it'll take us to reach the woods and return?"

The lizardkin hummed in thought momentarily, tilting his head from side to side before speaking up. "Based on earlier today, I'd say it would take us another twenty to thirty minutes to reach the forest and then a minimum of thirty minutes on our return due to the overall traffic decrease later tonight." He explained methodically before looking over to Vitmori. "Though I'm not sure how long it'd take you to fell a tree, Mister Vito."

Vitmori nodded slowly in what looked like consideration before turning to look back to Wither. "So it'll likely take us an hour and a half, maybe two hours if I don't find any trees I like right away."

Before Wither could respond, Lostrill cut in, sounding somewhat astounded and unsure. "Are you saying it'll take you less than an hour, possibly less than thirty minutes, to cut down and process a tree?"

Vitmori barked out a laugh before shaking his head a little. "I never said anything about actually cutting the tree down. I planned to take the entire tree straight from the dirt, from the leaves to the roots." He mused, clearly reveling in the confused expression the lizardkin had on his face. "I also never said it would be just the one tree either. I will need quite a bit of wood to furnish my entire building."

Lostrill just went quiet, his scaled face scrunched in apparent contemplation as he seemingly focused on the road again.

With Lostrill focused on other things, Wither spoke up as he made his way closer to the front of the carriage. "Are you sure, Boss? You won't need me around?"

Vitmori just nodded slowly. "I mean it most kindly, Wither, but I won't need you for this. So, feel free to explore for the next couple of hours, have fun, and enjoy yourself, and maybe you can show me around another day." He stated rather cheerfully.

Ultimately, Wither didn't intend to make more than a token effort to question his Boss's reasoning and bobbed his head at Vitmori's words. "Very well, Boss, I'll do my best to explore."

Vitmori chuckled at that as he looked back at the road ahead. "Enjoy yourself, Wither, and you'll be doing enough."

Wither wasn't entirely sure what to say, so he nodded at Vitmori's words. Once the carriage stopped at another intersection, Wither hopped out and stood at the street corner until the carriage moved on, leaving him alone for the time being.

The seconds turned to a couple of minutes as Wither was left with almost overwhelming indecisiveness at the utter freedom he was just granted. Having at least moved out of the way of incoming traffic, he leaned against a wall before peeking into the coin pouch Vitmori had given him. He was surprised to see gold in there, even if it was only two pieces, accompanied by eight pieces of silver and fifteen pieces of copper.

As Wither stood by and watched the crowds as they passed, he decided to look himself over, noting his tattered and torn robes that long had the symbols of the Gaian Church ripped off of them. They had certainly seen better days and were far from being the cleanest, given that they have yet to be maintained even once these last few months. After another moment of consideration, he decided his first stop would be a clothing store of some kind; he knew he already stuck out because of the mask he needed to wear due to the condition his face was in, along with the general pallor of his skin, so a change of clothing should help him stick out a little less.

Instead of aimlessly walking around, he asked the various individuals who were going about their day for directions to a possible clothing store, and while it did take more than a few attempts since he was brushed off as either some strange beggar or unnerved the people he approached; he was eventually given some proper help by a confident rabbitkin couple who sent him on his way.

Having navigated the streets and taken in the few sights here and there, Wither arrived at the Traveler's Trunk clothing store and made his way inside. Curiously looking around, his first impression was that the clothes here looked warm, sturdy, and decently well-made for being mass-produced.

Approaching one of the tables with neatly stacked piles of similarly styled long-sleeve shirts, he noticed a small sign offering free tailoring services to accommodate people with wide horns or wings. Even though it didn't apply to him, he couldn't help but consider the issues that people with extra appendages or growths had to deal with, if only for a moment, as he took up a shirt and held it to his chest to try and gauge the size he needed.

The store was mostly empty, with only a couple of other patrons looking over shelves and tables of clothing. Before long, a petite birdkin woman with a generous spattering of dull blue and grey downy feathers across her shoulders and chest approached Wither, the woman having first checked in with the other patrons before eventually making her way up to him as she flashed a polite-looking smile. "Good afternoon, sir. Do you know what you're looking for, or could you use a little help?" She asked, tilting her head ever so slightly while looking up at the relatively tall and masked man.

Wither watched the woman for a moment, tilting his head slowly to match her without considering it before it suddenly dawned on him that he should probably say something. "Erm... Yes... I... I could use some help if you don't mind."

The woman nodded intently as her eyes trailed across the shirts Wither had been checking before looking back up at him. "Very well, sir, what do you need?"

Wither looked at the shirt he was holding before setting it down and turning to face the birdkin woman. "I think I need a new outfit altogether... A shirt, an overcoat with a hood, pants, shoes, maybe some gloves."

The birdkin procured a small stone slate and a piece of chalk as she quickly scribbled down the relatively short list of items before looking up at Wither with a pleasant smile still on her lips. "Do you intend on wearing armor under or over these clothes?"

Wither couldn't help but pause at that comment, blinking to himself for a couple of moments before shaking his head. "Probably not. It isn't my role to engage in combat; my duty is healing others."

She just quirked a brow at that, looking somewhat skeptical of that comment. "Even if you aren't fighting, you should probably wear armor anyways; you never know when it'll come in handy." She said before shaking her head and sighing. "But it isn't my place to critique."

"I'll be fine." Wither said after a moment, though he wasn't sure why he was trying to reassure her as he regarded her again. "Ideally, I'd like not to show any skin if you could help me in that endeavor... Oh! And dark colors that don't show bloodstains easily."

She nodded at his words, adding more to whatever she had written down on her stone notepad and looking relatively unphased by his requests. "Very well. Do you happen to know your measurements?" She asked, though as Wither silently shook his head, she nodded some more. "I see; if that's the case, would you mind following me to the back so I can get your measurements? Of course, you're not getting anything fitted, but this way, I'll know what size range I can pick from for you."

Wither took a moment to look where she had gestured before slowly nodding and making his way over to a private room with a two-foot wide standing mirror. He couldn't help but just... Stare at himself while the birdkin woman walked around the room and set up whatever she needed to.

Before he knew it, Wither was reaching up for his mask, his fingers touching the smooth wood as he gazed into the reflection of his own eyes. Though before he could do anything else, the clacking of a wooden step stool being pulled open pulled him from the moment as he looked to the petite birdkin as she smiled up at him with a roll of measuring tape in her hands. "Alright, sir, if you don't mind, please pull those robes off."

"Oh... Uh, sure." Wither replied hesitantly before starting to disrobe, leaving on only his pants as he carefully laid them on a nearby rack.

"Wow, you're awfully pale for a human, sir, maybe even a little grey... Do you happen to have a little orc ancestry, perhaps?" She asked conversationally while getting her step stool into position. As he pulled off the last of the cloth that covered his torso, she couldn't help but let out an eep of surprise as her wings and feathers poofed up at the sight of his back and shoulders. "S-sorry, that was rude of me." She quickly apologized, eyeing his body before stepping up on the stool to get level with his shoulders. "If you don't mind my asking... Didn't you say you were a healer? How come you haven't tended to these... Err... Wounds."

Wither just impassively shook his head, eyeing the scars that marred the flesh of whoever this man used to be. "They were left alone for too long after I had been, um... Downed... By a powerful mana beast. The near-death experience and that beast's magic left me this way, and I haven't found anything to cure it." He explained away, eyeing the hints of claw marks along the side of his jawline that peeked out from behind the mask, and then the more apparent teeth marks where his body's throat had been ripped out and then put back into place and the clear ripping claw marks on his right shoulder and down his back. He had never really seen them like this before, and they looked more brutal than he had realized now that he was more aware of himself, but they didn't hurt.

Blight was the one who was physically better off between the two of them since Blight's body had been killed by being choked out while having its vitality drained by Oururu—a relatively bloodless, if not still painful, death.

"I can see why you'd not want to show any skin." She said softly, her eyes trailing the neck wound while measuring Wither's shoulders before wincing at her own words. "My apologies, sir. That wasn't proper for me to say."

"It's okay... It happened a lifetime ago." Wither stated as he maintained eye contact with his reflection while the birdkin measured his waist before measuring his legs and feet.

She finished taking her notes before long, scribbling the measurements down on her stone notepad when she looked up at Wither with a vague expression of pity and concern. "Feel free to wait here while I gather some options for you." She offered while heading for the door, but she stopped short as she watched Wither momentarily. "W-would you like a scarf to go with your requested clothes?" She asked while gesturing to her neck and shoulder while looking at the distinct scars on his body.

Wither was silent for a long while, and as she turned to leave when she thought he wouldn't respond, he finally piped up. "I'd like a green one... If you have it."

"Of course, sir." The birdkin said as she managed to smile before shutting the door behind her.

Now left on his own, Wither looked back at his reflection, staring into the eye holes of his mask. He examined his body for a few more moments before reaching up for his mask again and placing his hand against it. He wasn't sure why he was hesitating about removing it this time; he'd done it a few times before without a problem. But now? It may be that he's actually going to look at himself. What if... What if he doesn't like what he sees?

For all intents and purposes, he received this mask at the same time as his name. This mask is the only face he's ever really known. It is his face. The face Vitmori made for him, however casually that may have been. Should he even be curious about such a thing? About what's under the mask?

After another minute passed, Wither finally came to a decision. If he doesn't like his face, he doesn't need to look at it again after today.

Despite making the decision, Wither was still rather hesitant about actually taking the mask off and went about it the slow way, untying it from the back instead of lifting it straight off his face and... Vitmori was right. He was rather disturbing to look at... Maybe it was just the idea of seeing his own face for the very first time—or rather, the face of the body he was given.

Before him was a tired-looking, sickly man in his late twenties or early thirties with a ruined face and beautifully vibrant green eyes. Deep gouges from Basti's magically enhanced claws ripped over his right eye, cheek, and jawline. In some places, he could see through his cheekbones and jawbone and even look at his teeth and gums from where the claws had cleanly gone through his cheek flesh.

He had seen enough corpses and enough of the other zombies to know that the face of the man in the reflection would frighten and disgust most people, especially children. He also knew that he didn't want to disturb people more than he already did, and even though this wasn't the face Vitmori had given him, he decided to do something about it.

With a pulse of his slowly beating heart, he began gathering his mana to his hand, focusing on the magical energy's nature to be that of life and rejuvenation before pressing his palm against his cheek. In the silence of the room, he could hear his flesh squelch and squish together more than he could feel it as he watched the deep gouges in his face become more shallow, the gaps in his flesh mending until every hole that wasn't supposed to be there had been properly closed.

Pulling his hand away, he leaned in closer as he began slowly tilting his head from side to side, examining himself more properly now that he didn't look as mangled as he did a few minutes ago. He didn't... He did not dislike his face anymore, and the more that he looked at the face, the more a strange expression crept onto it... Is that... A smile? It's a nice smile if he could say so himself. He also felt he could claim this as his face now that he changed it himself. Well... At the very least, he put in a modicum of effort since he had initially been given this body and the face as it had been back then. Maybe one day he could learn to love his face, but for now, he still preferred the face Vitmori had given him as he pulled away from the mirror and secured the mask back to where it belonged.

After a couple more minutes, the door to the room swung open as the birdkin shop attendant made her way back inside, literally walking backward into the room as she pushed the door open with her body before turning on her heel as she carried in the bundle of clothes. "Thank you for your patience, sir; I think you'll like what I picked out for you." She enthused rather cheerfully as she brought the clothes to a small table and set them down again. "Go on; I'll be waiting right outside, so feel free to change into whatever catches your eye." She said before leaving and shutting the door behind him again.

Looking over the array of clothes before him, he chose a pair of dark brown cotton breeches, calf-high black boots secured by leather straps, a dark gray long-sleeve shirt, a soft hide vest, and a black hooded overcoat. After pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, he spotted the scarf among the remaining clothes he hadn't picked and decided to pull it on. He carefully wrapped it until it entirely covered his neck before pulling up his new hood and looking himself in the mirror.

He looked... Well, he still looked fairly intimidating in these dark colors, but at the very least, he didn't look like a ragged mess. He looked and felt cleaner than he could remember, and something about that feeling brought him a strange sense of joy. He could feel that smile growing again but under the mask this time, of course.

Gathering up and folding his robes and old clothes, he tucked them under his arm and stepped out of the dressing room. The petite birdkin woman immediately approached him as she looked him up and down and flashed a rather sincere-looking smile. "You look much nicer now, sir; you certainly cut a more distinct look now, that's for sure." She politely expressed before gesturing to the front counter where another employee was speaking with a goatkin woman. "Shall we get you checked out, or would you still like to shop around?"

Wither didn't respond immediately but spoke up faster than before: "I... I'm ready to go. Thank you... for all of your help."

She smiled still, seemingly pleased by his response, as she led him to the counter before reviewing her stone notepad and then fiddling with an abacus. "That will be... forty-three copper, sir."

Slowly nodding, Wither procured two silver coins from his pouch and placed them in a tray already on the counter. The woman took up the tray and walked off with it before returning with seventeen copper pieces and a small burlap sack.

"What is this for?" Wither asked, staring intently at the bag she brought before looking over at her as he gently collected the copper coins.

"It's a complimentary bag for your purchases, sir, but since you're wearing them out, you may as well put your old clothes in it." She readily explained and suggested, her eyes following Wither's hand, as he collected each copper coin one at a time and dropped them into his coin purse.

Such a valuable little thing that he didn't even need to buy? Wither couldn't help but smile at that as he nodded slowly in understanding. "You've helped me quite a bit today... Thank you very much."

She chuckled softly and waved a dismissive hand. "You're welcome, sir. Don't worry about it. I'm just glad we were able to get you sorted so quickly. Will there be anything else today, sir?" She asked as she watched him methodically tuck the clothes away into the sack before tying the drawstring around his arm to hang it off of himself.

"Actually... Yes. If you don't mind helping me a little more." Wither started to say as he met the woman's gaze. "Do you know where I can go, have fun and enjoy myself?"

She blinked a few times before a smirk of amusement grew as she brought her hands to her mouth to stifle a chuckle. It took her a moment to recover, and she just shook her head at herself before finally speaking up. "I'm so sorry about that; it was rude of me to just laugh like that." She mused before looking up at him again. "I don't know what I expected you to say, but it wasn't that..." She explained almost mischievously before leaning forward on the counter and propping her chin up with her arm, which was now resting against the countertop. "What sort of 'fun and enjoyment' are you looking for? Just so we can be on the same page, sir."

Were there many kinds of 'fun and enjoyment'? "I'm... not sure," Wither replied as he tilted his head to the left uncertainly. "My Boss... He ordered me to explore, have fun, and enjoy myself... Oh, and to buy a trinket."

She nodded intently, still looking somewhat amused but a little more relaxed now as she flashed an almost cheerful smile. "I wish I got orders like that from my boss." She mused before tilting her head from side to side in consideration. "You could try visiting the South Gate Street market. It usually has a fun evening-to-nighttime crowd around there. Still, it's even more active nowadays with all the travelers coming to town for that elite gathering or summit, whatever it is." She explained away with a small handwave of her free hand. "We even have travelers who come out from the inner city docks, so there might be something mighty interesting there." She enthused as she pushed away from the counter. "Of course, there's a market square at the north gate and an even bigger one in the inner city, but the south market's more local for me, so obviously, it's my favorite."

Wither was already starting to reel at the options of the north, south, and inner city, but after a few quiet moments, he nodded slowly. "Very well... The South Gate market... How do I get there?"

The scents of food, perfumes, sweat, incense, and animals, along with all the noises, chattering, clattering, and even music that come with those things, assaulted Wither's senses as he did his best to follow the flow of the crowd and take in the busy sites around him. It... Was beautiful? He wasn't sure of it, but the controlled chaos of all the people around him stirred something inside of him, and he couldn't help but want to experience even more of it all.

As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes became an hour, Wither became distinctly aware that the time to return to Vitmori was drawing ever closer. But... He wasn't ready for all this to end quite yet.

With a burlap sack stuffed with a variety of clinking and clacking trinkets and his coin purse somewhat lighter, he had found himself approaching yet another stand of curious curios; this time, it was a number of ornate-looking pieces of equipment, bracers made of polished grey and black metal, a brown and blue breastplate with fine engravings, red boots with complex stitching among other things. "Young Basmori might enjoy those." He said aloud to nobody in particular as he studied the bracers.

Of course, the young halfling man running the stand perked up at Wither's interest; he leaned forward against the stand's counter and attempted to meet Wither's gaze. "You have a good eye, sir; if you look even closer, you'll find that each of these items are actually made to be enchanted, ready to be turned into tools and artifacts worth dozens if not hundreds of pieces of gold." He explained with no small amounts of charismatic bravado. "But alas, they lay incompleted and magicless... However, the potential is still there. What do you say, sir? While their potential could one day turn to gold, I'm willing to part with these for mere silvers."

Wither didn't really know anything about all of that, though the bracers did look nice. "How many silvers?"

The halfling smiled a bit more before stroking his chin in thought and piping up. "For those bracers, I'd be willing to part with them for six silver. What do ya say?"

Wither lifted the burlap sack and looked inside the coin pouch that he had left in there. "I'm afraid I'm a little short on silvers. Do you happen to have change for gold?"

A flash of emotions crossed the halfling's face: disappointment, which was soon followed by surprise and delight as he eagerly bobbed his head. "Of course, sir, I'd be happy to make change for you." He enthused as he held out his hand, palm up, for the coin which Wither procured and set in the waiting palm.

As the halfling began digging through a lock box that had been physically bolted to his stand to fetch Wither's coin, Wither went about carefully tucking away the bracers into the burlap sack before turning his attention back to the halfling who held the coin out in both of his hands.

Of course, Wither proceeded to collect each coin one at a time, dropping it into the pouch in the burlap sack as each coin audibly clinked, much to the growing annoyance of the halfling merchant who did their best to maintain a sense of professionalism despite the circumstances.

Though as the last coin was dropped into the coin pouch, Wither was suddenly accosted by a blonde furred rabbitkin, and with a flash of gleaming metal, the drawstrings of the burlap sack were sliced, and the rabbitkin child began sprinting away.

"My... Things..." Wither couldn't help but murmur, unsure of what to do as he turned to look at the rather surprised halfling.

"Well, go on and give chase; that brat is gonna get away!" The halfling spurred on, looking even more surprised that Wither hadn't immediately started moving after the little thief.

With a direction set before him, he looked after where the rabbitkin had run off and proceeded to start running. However, he soon realized that he wasn't even sure where he was running to as he did his best to avoid bumping into anyone until there was no one left to bump into.

Before he knew it, Wither had ended up hopelessly lost as he wandered the backstreets and alleyways of the outer city, finding himself somewhere in the middle of what appeared to be the boundaries of the commercial and residential districts. He would occasionally meet other people also wandering the alleyways, though they seemed to be more intimidated by his general appearance and would leave him alone rather than try to mess with him.

He walked and wandered until a commotion suddenly drew his attention, a clattering of wood against stone and a thwump of flesh dropping on the ground that sounded worryingly small.

"Fuck-! The little shit kicks hard." A man muttered and hissed from around the corner.

"Pfft~ Well, what do you expect? That's all those little bunnies are good for." A woman mused with hissing laughter.

"Now then, let's see what goodies they were carrying for us." Another man said excitedly as the sound of clattering coins on concrete rang out, followed by the crunching of glass and the clattering of a number of other things.

As he rounded the corner, he came across a trio of lightly armed and very lightly armored individuals clustered around the rabbitkin child while a scruffy human man poured out a couple of bags worth of items, along with Wither's things.

Upon seeing his belongings, Wither approached, only to be immediately held by a bladed tail point as the snakeskin woman noticed his approach. Her tail had moved rather fast as she flicked her tongue out at him. "Hold it, where do you think you're going?"

Wither didn't even bother with flinching at the woman's threat as he stared down at his belongings. "Those are mine."

The first man, a somewhat rough-looking dogkin, flashed an amused sneer, ears perked high as he regarded Wither up and down. "Oh? So the brat stole from you? Sure, feel free and help yourself." He mused as he stepped away from the crumpled body of the young rabbitkin while reaching around behind him.

Wither didn't bother to acknowledge the man, stepping closer to the scattered pile of his things when he finally noticed the rabbitkin on the ground, the blood dribbling from their mouths as they shuddered and desperately clung to life. It was then that something seemed to twist in his stomach, a heavy, almost burbling pit that weighed him down and caused his throat to tighten and his teeth to clench. Wither wasn't sure what this feeling was, and he was certain it wasn't the knife that the dogkin had just buried in his lower back while the human and snakekin cackled with clear delight.

"Y-you hurt the child... W-why?" Wither muttered with a cold intensity that was unfamiliar to him.

"Because why the fuck not, shithead?" The dogkin mused, a vague look of confusion bleeding onto his sneering expression as he twisted the blade before pulling it out and running it between Wither's ribs and one of his lungs. "Brat wouldn't give us their stuff; they were asking for it."

Now Wither remembered the emotion... He had felt it radiating off of Vitmori back at Lucfan's Rest when they came across the field of prisoners. This was the emotion that bled into every order he gave from then on; it fueled the horde and drove them to rip apart those he deemed to be his enemy.

As the dogkin pulled the knife out of Wither's body again, he made the decision to stop being himself, just for now, and to embrace the nature that Vitmori had instilled in his horde, the very nature that he had suppressed as a healer of others... He would devour.

As the knife buried itself in Wither's left shoulder, his right hand came up, ripping off his hood and mask as he lunged for the dogkin and plunged his teeth into their throat. His manaheart pulsed with unfiltered life magic as he could feel the muscles in his jaw start to tear and repair themselves from the sheer force he was outputting; the squelching ripping of skin and veins followed by the desperate gurgling of the dogkin as they fell to the ground while clutching their throat to pointlessly stop the bleeding.

‘His flesh is soo… Delicious… Is this how people taste to the other zombies?’

Wither rounded on the snakekin and human, blood spilling down his chin as he swallowed and dashed forward, each step causing his heart to pulse as the life magic coursed through his body.

The human stumbled back, turning to run while the snakekin lashed out with her tail blade while simultaneously coiling her body to put some distance between her and Wither. “W-what the hell are you?!” She cried out, managing to launch herself to the left by rapidly uncoiling her tail and getting out of Wither’s way as he smashed himself against the alley wall, leaving a blood-soaked imprint behind as he pushed off and wheeled around on her again.

This time, the snakekin coiled her tail before launching it out at Wither, impaling him with the blade as it pierced clear through his stomach and out through his back. But instead of going down, he suddenly experienced a rush of energy as the dogkin succumbed to his injuries.

Reaching up and ripping the dagger from his shoulder, Wither used his other hand and grabbed the snakekin by her tail, his fingers easily piercing through the thin scales before swiftly slicing through the slim part of her tail as the blade and the rest of the tail clattered with a bloody thump to the ground behind him.

“M-my tail!” The snakekin woman cried out, losing all semblance of composure as she lunged for the severed flesh, shoving Wither aside with a burst of manic strength before scooping the still wriggling flesh and cradling it to her chest.

Though that was little comfort as she was tackled to the ground by Wither, his jaw, and cheeks audibly ripping and repairing themselves as he dug his teeth into her throat while peeling away the scales of her neck and shoulders, this time savoring his meal, going back for seconds and thirds, slurping and chomping down on the reptilian flesh as he was flooded with yet another rush of intoxicating vital energies.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the next thing he knew, a voice broke him from his stupor. His eyes quickly darted up to its source when his sense of self came rushing back at an all-too-familiar presence.

“Hey buddy, it looks like you’ve been busy. I hope I’m not interrupting.” Vitmori says in a soft, almost soothing voice. It was then he noticed that he was cradling the rabbitkin child in one of his arms while holding Wither’s mask out to him. “You let one get away, but don’t worry, he didn’t get far.” He mused almost cheerfully. “Now come on, we should probably get going.”

Taking up his mask with both hands, blood staining the unpainted wood, he gazed into the empty eye holes before looking up to Vitmori and speaking up, sad exhaustion just seeping through every word. “I… Ruined my new clothes.”