* I swear I j-just saw a sp-sprout grow legs and w-walk away.

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⠀ 【 With that one, single moment, the Knight moves to escape. To run as far as it can, as fast as it can. It twists its form into one closer to avian than anything else, and flies in a singular direction, on the same path as a bullet, never wavering, never looking back. 】 ⠀

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⠀ 【 Something so core to its very nature that it has become engrained in its name and synonymous with its purpose. 】 【 The Knight roars. Deafening, the sound carries across the Dark, blowing harsh winds away from it, and allowing just one second of clarity. 】 ⠀

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⠀ 【 Flashes from something beyond it as the creature speaks to nothing, and the abyss averts its gaze. The Knight is losing any little composure it has left. 】 【 The one solid thing it can grasp, hold onto as tight as it can such that it is not pulled off by the tide, is a single, primal act. 】 ⠀

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⠀ 【 The Knight claws at its helmet. It's too much. Memory blurs between its own and this foreign consciousness, and it brings confusion, pain, and misery. 】 【 Voices call out for December. Voices harshly scold something. It sees itself, it sees people it's never known. 】 ⠀

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