Mark took another bite of the hard bread and stretched while he chewed, hiding the fact that he was having trouble swallowing, let alone breathing.
'It's easier than yesterday,' he thought happily while ignoring the looks of passersby for sitting on the side of the street like a fool in ragged, dirty clothes with a navy blue, long tail coat pulled over them. The brown, messy haired fool settled in against the building, accepting it as comfortable, and smiled as another of the little white humanoid creatures passed by, with the wings of a bat, 'cute' squinting eyes, and a red puffball suspended atop their heads by a whisker-like appendage. They were slightly entertaining, and watching them waddle through the crowds helped to relax Mark and allow him to breath easier. This one made its way past two people just standing in the middle of the street and Mark glanced at the small woman and the man, the latter of which holding a familiar look of confusion. The same look Mark felt he had when he suddenly found himself, body completely sore and pained from a battle, in this strange town the day before. He wondered if this man was experiencing a similar situation, or if it was something completely different.
A gust blew over the rooftops, and Mark coughed violently, stifling it behind his hands. He had subconsciously attempted to communicate with the wind again, and had received the retribution of a strange entity.
