{TSS} {Green Fog RP log}

It had started out gently. Well, as gentle as it could get, anyways. A bare sting right off his neck, he recalled. And sure, it made him jolt from the shock of it, but it wasn't truly that bad. In fact he excused it as some kind of bug. When he looked for signs of a living bug, however, there was no such thing. He thought that it had flied off, though this was the first time he had ever been bitten in this part of the woods. Eh. He simply dismissed it.

And it turned out to be the worst mistake he had ever made.

He had only a moment to notice the black puffs in the skies—which he could’ve sworn merely appeared to be cloudy—when he was seared on the arm. No bug, and this was the second time. The reason why he hadn’t heard of a single animal during his walk finally occurred to him. Whatever phenomenon this was, it wasn't one he had ever seen before, and he could much less predict where it would take him. Regardless, he didn't have much time to think; his adrenaline button was punched in when two drops seeped into his shirt, smoldering the late scars across his back.

He sprinted off, keeping his head from potential danger by ducking under his bag. The forest litter crunched beneath the swift movements of his feet, spawning noises absent during the once pleasant spring day. The storm wasn’t going to wait for him, and he knew that from the tides of wind knocking him back. Things escalated so quickly in a few minutes, he feared in the next brief instances all the scars on his back would begin to tear again and a full-fledged storm would disintegrate his flesh. Sure, it wasn’t like him to be such a pessimist, but he couldn’t be blamed, right? After all, he could barely figure out where he was going because of the smoky haze—the only thing he had left being intuition at this point.

As the toxic droplets continued to lash against his body, he started to grow weaker. Panting furiously, peering in hope of some kind of shelter, he wasn’t even sure anymore that he could make it at this point—until, just then, his skin pricked against some kind of wall. A tree? No. A cave? Yes! A cave, one that appeared to be the best form of protection he could possibly acquire with the current situation. The redhead groped around for some kind of entrance, and when he finally found an opening, he quickly threw himself in, staggering before falling flat-out on the rocky stalagmites.

He knew it was best if he could trek his way out of the tunnel-like cave and find someone who could mend the burns—particularly on his back amongst other injuries—but he was so fatigued he couldn’t do so much as drag himself to sit upright. That was barely a thread of his worries, though, as it seemed that he wasn’t the only person in the cave.