A sharp intake of breath punctuates Leon's arrival. Belts jingle as he turns to the left; to the right; in a quick circle. His eyes, initially wide with surprise, narrow in suspicion.
What is this place? How did he get here? ... Why is he here?
Minutes tick by in silence, save for his own breathing. Gradually, tensed muscles start to relax. The room is dark, yes — black walls, black floor, black ceiling — but there's nothing sinister about it. There are no glowing yellow eyes boring into him; no slithering shadows circling his feet. It's dark, but it's not darkness.
Satisfied, for the moment, that no Heartless are present, Leon gingerly takes a seat on the nearest of the two yoga mats. He studies the slightly glowing liquid — some sort of potion, or ether? — but does not drink.
Leon's first thought, upon seeing the wolf watching him, is not to attack. Nor is it to defend. There's nothing hostile about the creature; nothing to trigger fight or flight instincts. Instead, he notes the animal's eyes. Intelligent. Studying him, the way he's studying it.
Perhaps this wolf appeared here the same way that he did: all at once, and without explanation.
"Are you lost?"
Not that Leon has any information to give, if the wolf is. But, if there's two of them, then there's probably more.
The wolf's ability to understand him, and to communicate in turn, doesn't surprise Leon. He is, after all, a friend of King Mickey, and is familiar with the King's dog, Pluto.
So he nods and adds, "I don't know how I got here."
Or, for that matter, how to leave.
A moment passes in silence while Leon considers the situation, his scarred brow furrowed in thought. Then, he asks the wolf, "Can you show me the way back?"
Again, Leon nods, and his brow furrows more deeply as he lapses into silence. His eyes drop to the green-lighted lamp between them. It holds no answers, either.
It's not the first time that Leon has been in a strange place, unable to return home. But that was far different: his world had fallen to darkness, and it took nine years before it could be reclaimed. This situation is nothing like that.
... Or is it? Can he really say for sure? Could something have happened to Radiant Garden?
The thought is troubling, to say the least. As is the fact that, for now, it seems there's no way for him to check on his world's well-being. At least, not until he can find a way out of this.
'This.' What is this? And....
"Why am I here?"
His words are quiet; the question is directed at no one and nothing. But, after the silence of contemplation, they ring loud enough in the dark room.
In quiet contemplation, the answers seem easy to grasp. This place - whatever it is - is choreographed, organized to give he and the wolfling a chance to meet. To - strange as it may seem - communicate, exchange ideas.
The answers seem to flow into his mind, so easy to grasp it's as though he already knew them. This is a place to meet; a place to speak. He's in this place ... so that he can meet the wolf.
But why? Leon had no need to meet the wolf. Not that he knows, anyway. Could it be ... the young wolf needed to meet him?
The question that comes next is automatic: the result of so many years spent giving aid to strangers in need.
The wolf huffs a sigh. Then, there's a flicker, then a steady glow of lime-green light eclipsing Leon's vision. When it clears, there's an exhausted white-haired man sitting where the wolf previously was.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
A sharp intake of breath punctuates Leon's arrival. Belts jingle as he turns to the left; to the right; in a quick circle. His eyes, initially wide with surprise, narrow in suspicion.
What is this place? How did he get here? ... Why is he here?
Minutes tick by in silence, save for his own breathing. Gradually, tensed muscles start to relax. The room is dark, yes — black walls, black floor, black ceiling — but there's nothing sinister about it. There are no glowing yellow eyes boring into him; no slithering shadows circling his feet. It's dark, but it's not darkness.
Satisfied, for the moment, that no Heartless are present, Leon gingerly takes a seat on the nearest of the two yoga mats. He studies the slightly glowing liquid — some sort of potion, or ether? — but does not drink.
no subject
no subject
Perhaps this wolf appeared here the same way that he did: all at once, and without explanation.
"Are you lost?"
Not that Leon has any information to give, if the wolf is. But, if there's two of them, then there's probably more.
no subject
no subject
So he nods and adds, "I don't know how I got here."
Or, for that matter, how to leave.
A moment passes in silence while Leon considers the situation, his scarred brow furrowed in thought. Then, he asks the wolf, "Can you show me the way back?"
no subject
no subject
It's not the first time that Leon has been in a strange place, unable to return home. But that was far different: his world had fallen to darkness, and it took nine years before it could be reclaimed. This situation is nothing like that.
... Or is it? Can he really say for sure? Could something have happened to Radiant Garden?
The thought is troubling, to say the least. As is the fact that, for now, it seems there's no way for him to check on his world's well-being. At least, not until he can find a way out of this.
'This.' What is this? And....
"Why am I here?"
His words are quiet; the question is directed at no one and nothing. But, after the silence of contemplation, they ring loud enough in the dark room.
no subject
no subject
But why? Leon had no need to meet the wolf. Not that he knows, anyway. Could it be ... the young wolf needed to meet him?
The question that comes next is automatic: the result of so many years spent giving aid to strangers in need.
"Do you need help?"
no subject
no subject
"Are you in danger?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
"No immediate danger," the man says. "Hello."
no subject
"... Who are you?"
It's not the most polite response. But at least it's 'who,' and not 'what.'