[The shadow had said this could take him to his pack, so Firo marches up to the flower heedless of the light. He looks directly at the flower; he intends to touch it, make it do something.
He doesn't get the chance. The light streams out and swallows his vision. He almost wonders if he's been blinded--but the problem isn't that he can't see. He sees too much. He doesn't breathe.
He tries to look for his pack, and he sees everything but. The world--no, worlds--around them are too massive to ignore no matter how much he tries. He thinks he's calling out for them, but he doesn't have the air in his lungs to make a sound.]
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He doesn't get the chance. The light streams out and swallows his vision. He almost wonders if he's been blinded--but the problem isn't that he can't see. He sees too much. He doesn't breathe.
He tries to look for his pack, and he sees everything but. The world--no, worlds--around them are too massive to ignore no matter how much he tries. He thinks he's calling out for them, but he doesn't have the air in his lungs to make a sound.]