it’s raining.

the rain’s comforting.

…storm can’t remember how they got here, or when he got here.

it’s been here for… how long? longer than a couple minutes for sure, hell even months or years, but storm can’t remember

they never can. and it doesn’t know why it knows that.

but something here feels… off.

adjusting their flower crown, storm looks around.

they’re simply in a spruce forest, with a taiga on one side. of course they are, where else would they be?

wait, how does he know that? hhh, storm’s head hurts, it’s really confusing. the memories are there, but blocked by some sort of fuzzy, static, and colorless wall.