The "boy" had seen only a handful of creatures like these before-- bipedal, predominantly hairless, and with the most peculiar vocalizations. This one called after him-- his voice creaking like wood through the trees-- but upon seeing the boy, the creature had wheeled back in terror. Its companion, furred and quadrapedal, barked wildly. It wasn't worth the trouble-- having eaten as recently as he had, he felt no inclination to make a meal of the man-- and besides, he'd have to fight a dog to do so.

The man fumbled with a small, black box and began to chatter animatedly into it-- oh, was that what those were for? When the boy had found... well, the original boy... he'd had a similar black box in his pocket. Perhaps the "boy" could make use of it later. Perhaps the black box could answer his questions. The boy walked with trepidation down the road, eyes tracing the hard, geometric edges of the buildings. His mouth opened in wonder. What... were... these things? Sure, he had seen the soft-sided shelters ample times, in the woods-- humans would retreat into them to sleep at nights-- but these? These were huge compared to those! Simply amazing! The "boy" doubted that such monoliths would break-down as easily as those stick-and-fabric hovels.

The boy paused to touch the building with the palm of his hand, looking towards the roof. It felt somewhat... like the surface of a tree, but smooth. Were it darker, he could ease out of this form to inspect the building further... but the light would make such a thing unbearable. He'd wait until to nightfall to take a closer look--

He continued walking. There were all sorts of these structures, all different sizes and colors, some glowing from within as if they'd been lit with fire and allowed to burn themselves out. The boy drew nearer to the glowing opening, and found himself blocked by an invisible barrier. Within, people moved about.

The boy smacked his palm against the window, giving a shout of, "Oi!"

Believing the glow of an electric light to be fire, he was worried that they might get burn from staying inside for too long. The occupants of the room gave startled shouts. The boy drew his hand to smack against the window again, but a new voice froze him in his place. It was a woman, now-- her hair was a red much like his own, and her eyes shown bright. The boy snapped to attention when the woman shouted at him, inclining his head to listen. She held something up when she addressed him, but from this distance the boy had no clue what it was-- not that he would have recognized a "hero license" even if he was closer to her.

"... ex... plain... your... self?"

It was as if the boy had been holding marbles in his mouth, and each word uttered was another marble falling from his lips. The words felt so familiar, yet so foreign. And she sounded mad. Perhaps hitting the window had been a bad thing?

The boy gave the house a light, conciliatory pat-- trying to show that he meant no harm-- and then began to walk carefully backwards, his eyes never once leaving the woman at the top of the hill. Clearly, he had caused some offense in his assault on the building, and would now have to pay the price.

If the woman made any sudden moves, the boy would scramble into a run and skitter up a side-street, much as a street-cat might flee at the sight of a person... and even if she didn't move quickly, if the boy were permitted to back slowly out of view onto the side-street, he'd take-off running as soon as he was out-of-sight, bare feet slapping against the uneven pavement. He still had a good twenty strides to the corner, however-- if she were sharp about her next move, she might not have to worry about chasing him down.

In the western part of the Tokyo prefecture resided the Hachioji Blueberry Field, a modest farm that pressed against sprawling mountains and dense forest. Birdsong caught on the wind, painting the air with a sweet and senseless melody as the farmer that owned the farm strode across the field. The season for blueberries had ended a little over a month ago, but early wake-ups were an old force of habit. With less work to do in the off-month’s, the farmer had taken to going on early morning walks with his dog, a tan-colored shepherd-mix who trotted peaceably up ahead.

The sky was beautiful, the blue-pink of an early morning sunrise.

His dog barked, the sharp sound cutting through the silence like the snap of a whip. The farmer lowered his gaze, following his dog’s attention. A figure had emerged from the trees– a boy, nothing but skin-and-bones, with a crown of ginger hair– he wasn’t wearing any shoes. A growl pooled in the throat of the farmer’s dog, hackles rising, as it circled back towards its owner.

“Maron, hush– pardon my dog, boy,” the farmer greeted, “You gave him a start, coming out of the woods like that– are you alright?”

The boy turned his head towards the farmer, followed by his shoulders as well as the rest of his body–as he turned, the farmer’s confusion turned to terror– a gaping bloodstain covered the majority of the boy’s shirt, even onto his pant-leg. The farmer stepped back, his heel catching on the uneven road, and he fell onto his rump. The dog’s protective growling increased to frantic barks, spittle flying as it shielded its master from the strange redhead.

The boy inspected the pair unfazed, inclining his head. He uttered not a single word. Then, as quickly as he appeared, he turned in the direction that the farmer had been walking and walked onward.

The farmer fumbled nervously into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone– his fingers shakily pressed 1-1-9 and he held the receiver to his ear, nervously clutching his chest as he got to his feet.

“Hello, yes– please, send help- there’s a boy covered in blood and I think he’s in shock, he’s just- he’s nonverbal and just walking away when I try to talk to him, there’s something wrong with him- Hachioji Blueberry Farm. No, he’s on the move- Yes, I’ll follow him. My dog doesn’t like him though-”