"I don't know why you have this hyper obsession with... Just- following me."

He says, his distorted voice sounding tired and exasperated. He sighs, rubbing his temples through his baggy mask. He turns, walks away briskly, and soon, you once more follow. Like a little puppy. He mentally groans at the sound of two sets of footsteps crunching the leaves, and stepping in the shallow mud.