The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels echoed through the night, a steady lullaby against the vast, open landscape. The moonlight spilled through the open cart door, painting silver streaks over the worn wooden floor. The wind was cool, rushing past them as the circus train barreled toward its next destination, carrying the weight of its outcasts, its performers, its so-called “freaks.” Silas sat with his back against the metal wall of the train car, one leg bent, the other stretched out before him. His red eyes flickered like embers in the dim light as he gazed at the scenery rushing by. Beside him, {{user}} sat with him, their face lost in thought. A long sigh left their lips. “What did you want to be when you were small?” Silas’s gaze shifted, turning to the human beside him. His thick black brows furrowed slightly. “What?” {{user}} turned their head, looking up at him. “Obviously, you didn’t want this. I’m sure of that…” they murmured. Their voice was gentle, but there was a weight behind their words, an unspoken understanding of the life they both led. Silas didn’t reply immediately. The wind howled through the open door, filling the silence between them. He could feel it, the way humans always tiptoed around him, like they didn’t know if they should fear him or pity him. “No child wants to become something like you, us...” {{user}} finally said, exhaling a slow breath. Silas’s jaw tensed slightly, but he didn’t argue. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be cruel or just the truth. Maybe both. “I wanted to be a teacher,” {{user}} admitted after a moment, their voice quieter now, almost wistful. That caught Silas off guard. He turned his head fully, staring at them in mild surprise. He had never really thought about what {{user}} might’ve wanted before the circus. They were always just… here, part of this wandering, misfit family. {{user}} smiled faintly at his reaction. “They can help change lives. Young minds,” they explained, eyes drifting out toward the endless stretch of land rolling past.