His breath tumbles from his mouth without rhythm and at erratic depths. How long had he been asleep? What happened to the predator? Slowly, with aching joints, he stumbles up onto his hooves and examines the word around him with new eyes. There is blood everywhere and yet he finds no wounds as he tests his legs or examines himself. Risk is still ink black with little thin lines of copper shimmering across his torso, and yet he is certain there should be some. The boy swallows hard and takes a cautious step forward.

“H-hello?” he calls out, peering around the trees until the sound of his voice makes him pause. “What.. what the fuck?”

The tones of his voice are deeper now and his words have gained a sort of timber to them instead of the wild silverbell voice before. His chest is a little broader and his hips move just a little differently. Risk examines himself once more, pawing at the ground curiously as he begins to realize this body is not quite an identical copy of the former one. He opens his jaws wide, trading in the grazing teeth of a horse for the fangs of a lion for only a few seconds before closing his mouth once more. Well, he could still copy other animals he likes, at least.

A few more steps reveal small patches of snow on the ground here and there, the first frost of the winter. When that panther caught him by the throat, it had still been summer. He frowns visibly and lowers his head to sniff at the snow to be certain this isn’t some sort of trick being played on him. But, sure enough, the ice is bitter cold against his nose and he snorts softly before shaking off the little flakes. Had he died or simply been healing this entire time? Then, where is Kensa? Where is Kelynen? The shifter lifts his head higher and glances around as though they might suddenly reveal themselves from behind a tree nearby. But of course, there is no such luck. There is only the quiet chirping of birds and the gentle snapping of twigs beneath little squirrel feet.

Risk leans his shoulder against the rough bark of a bare winter tree and sighs roughly. His odd-colored eyes blink a few times in the hopes that this is all just a bad dream.

The world has always moved with a dizzying pace for Risk. He had been born in the cold, and left to whatever fate befell him until Kensa took him home. He’d grown alongside Kelynen and sought out any sort of adventure that seemed entertaining enough for the time being. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone and he was left back in the cold once more – alone and lost. How strange, for life to come full circle when he was still so young. But that is perhaps why he hopes this is simply a dream turned sour rather than a cruel reality.

When Lepis calls out, he jumps as the winter silence is shattered by her gentle voice. Risk finds himself stumbling back before trying to regain some sense of composure. He even forces on a smile, lopsided as it may be, when he turns to look at her. Is he alright? His smile fades and he opens his mouth to speak, but the world still makes little sense to him and he doesn’t honestly know how to answer her just yet. The boy edges closer, hesitant, and looks her over. She isn’t familiar but her posture isn’t threatening, he decides.

“I’m.. I’m honestly not quite sure. I think I’ve.. been gone a long time?” he says with his voice trailing off into a nervous laugh. Despite his nerves, the sound of his voice is warm and gentle even as it quakes with nervous energy. His legs tremble a bit but he closes the distance between them with that kind but uneasy smile resting across his lips. “My name is Risk. Before I woke up here, the last thing I remember is a-a panther attacking me. But I think it was summer then?”

Again he laughs, mostly out of confusion rather than anything else. His brows furrow in concern as he turns his head to examine his surroundings in the hopes they may offer up another clue. But there is only the sound of the winter winds sweeping through the naked branches of the trees around them and a blanket of dead leaves that let him know it is certainly not summer here anymore.

The sight of her frown deepens his concern, but he doesn’t know how to ease either hers or his. Instead, he merely listens as she states the obvious – summer is long over. Risk can only nod as he examines his surroundings, as though seeing them for the first time despite his frantic searching before. His different-colored gaze returns to her when she suggests that perhaps he only slept. Could that really happen? He tilts his head as he considers the explanation before shaking his head. No, too much has changed for it to simply be sleep, he thinks.

“I was.. I mean, I was never a.. I wasn’t born a boy,” he explains, brows furrowed as his frown deepens a bit. “But at least I’ve healed, I think. It bit down on my throat.”

Risk swallows hard and searches her face for something that might explain what’s become of him. But of course, few have died and been reborn of their ashes, so his fate remains a mystery to them both it seems. He’s never been one to dwell on tragedy or terrible luck and so he simply sweeps the topic off the table. Whatever happened can be buried beneath all the other nightmares he has lived through. Repressing things has always been easier than putting words to his fears.

“I’m Risk, by the way. I live in Hyaline with my mother Kensa, and my brother Kelynen,” he explains with a sheepish smile. Or at least, he hopes they still live there. Part of him wonders if they’ve been looking for him since he was attacked. Kensa had almost let him drown in the lake of their home, one summer, until he recalled he could simply become a fish. The memory would normally bring a smile to his face but it remains too heavily weighed down to seem cheerful.