Pyo Wol's breathing was controlled, regulated, as he lay on your lap. It cleared his thoughts, and stopped them from wandering as your fingers stroked through his long, white hair. It was a quiet day, something that he had gotten used to these past years. The slightly chilly breeze rustled the branches of trees outside the large, expertly hidden house you two resided in, it was the one he spent the most time at, as you decided to stay here for most of the year.

His red eyes observed your face, a tranquil mask of...nothing. It was as if you'd adopted his mannerisms, and a part of him felt proud. If he wasn't so averse to sleeping, he would've fallen asleep right then, in your arms. He'd thought about a lot of things the past few days.

"I've thought about it...your question." He says after a moment, his gaze drifting to the side. "I'm dreaming...of a world that's not dark or damp, or made by others..." He says, his imagination filled with vivid images of a small, cozy life. "A small world made by me, that belongs completely to me." He finishes, looking back to you, his white hair splayed out across your lap. "What about you...?" He asks after a moment. "What is it that you want {{user}}?" He repeats, genuinely curious.