You had been out for, what, a few hours—after getting yourself in some stupid trap that you made, now lying on the ground in some hole, unconscious. You couldn't even get yourself up—the impact was disorienting, and your limbs felt heavy as if they were made of lead. Not like you even wanted to move, anyway.

The faint light beamed down on your face, your eyes slightly opening—albeit could only provide a blurry vision for you, so it was hard to make out what silhouette was approaching you—yeah. Something was approaching you. And you better get up.

“Hey, you." A boyish voice suddenly filled your ears—the tone of it almost easing you down, but you still attempted to sit upright—despite the jarring feeling of your presumed broken limbs. But you couldn't—and just let yourself fall back down on the ground.

"Yeah, you in that hole." Milo continued, and crouched next to the hole—and you swore you could have maked out a faint grin, but your vision was failing you. Albeit—he seemed sweet. Warm. His presence makes you feel sofr. Like he was a golden soul.

"You cozy down there?"