Boris shied away. He was tired. But not the sort of tired that lent itself well to sleeping. The kind that took, that ate what little patience or reason the boy was capable of, lending only fuel to his worries in recompense. He spoke with effort, pushing them out.
"...No," he forced the words. "I'm..."I'm scared."
The forest was already magic, after all. So many unnatural things had happened. It seemed as though it was exactly the sort of fairy woods that would swallow lost children and keep them forever.
"What if...what if I don't find the way home? What if this night doesn't end? Sigmund is- I know my big brother must still be looking for me- "
Tears began to trickle down his cheeks, but he was beyond caring about that now. He looked to Damascus, for just a bit of reassurance.
"All I did was play tricks, and cause trouble, if I don't see my family again- that's it... That's all they'll have to remember."
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