I feel everything.

Lifting my hands out to my sides, I hold my arms out extended and feel the soft breeze flowing all around myself as it creeps through my dusty bones. I feel the entirety of the empty space that I find myself in. I feel the warm air, creeping through the gaps of my armor. I feel the vibrations of the heavy steps of the man who continues walking ahead of me, his heavy body lurching over the pastel colored meadow, his boots crunching down the plants beneath him.

Ankle high grasses of an odd mixture of hues that range from a cloudy, airy pink to a deep, wet green span from one side of the floor to the other. It is as if the dungeon-master was painting this beautiful meadow and simply knocked over their color-palette mid-process.

It’s stimulating. This much color, this much clean air. It’s like nothing else in the dungeon. There is no dank rancour, no heavy feelings to weigh down on me. The springtide surrounds me on all sides and I let it do so. I can feel it in my core, in my heart of hearts. The longer I stare at the bright colors all around myself, the more of them leak into my eyes, filling me with feelings equivalent to their bright shades. Ah! It’s so beautiful. I love this floor.

Excited, I hurry after my friend. “So, how long have you been a trash-mob for?” I ask him.

“Shut up,” snarls the man as he trudges forward, the back of his pole-axe dragging through the dirt and leaving a score in the world, like the scar of a razor blade dragging across soft skin.

“Me? I’ve always been a trash-mob. I think? I really like it though. Have you ever met the dungeon-master?”

“Shut up.”

“I really want to meet the dungeon-master!” I tell him excitedly. “I bet they’re the best.”

He lets out a long, agitated grunt, not saying anything as he marches straight towards the next staircase. His eyes, resolute, determined, never falter from their sight of the way out. He only wants one thing, he’s only after one thing and he doesn’t let a single word of mine distract him from that, he doesn’t let the beautiful world around us distract him from that. What a hero. I stare at the smoldering fire that slowly drips out of his back.

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“Hey, how did you get a cape? I really want a cape too.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You know? I think it looks really cool, I bet if we run into the hero he’ll be like ‘wooooah, look at that guy, he has a fire-cape’. You know?” I ask him, nudging him in his side. He doesn’t respond and I wave him off. “Yeah, you know, tell you what.”

I look around the empty field that we find ourselves in. I wonder what kind of trash-mobs lived here? It reminds me a lot of… of…

My eye spasms, but I don’t know why. Maybe I need some sleep. Bending down, I run my fingers along a soft blade of colorful grass that almost seems to sway back and forth beneath myself, not to any wind or to any disturbance caused by our presence, but as if dancing to an unheard melody, as if it were jauntily bobbing up and down to a single song that plays somewhere so far off in the distance. It’s very beautiful.

I turn my head, looking back at the stranger who is leaving me behind again. Quickly, I run after him.

“Hey! Hey! I don’t have a name either, do you want to give each other names?”

He doesn’t say anything, but I hear a strained creak come from his metal gauntlets as he clenches them tighter. Maybe he’s excited about that idea?

“I mean, I guess you don’t have a name since you haven’t been able to answer me,” I say giddily as I catch up to him and return to his side. “I don’t have a name either. I don’t think so at least, not that I can remember. So it can’t have been a good one anyways, right?” I laugh, slapping him on the back. The man turns his head towards me.

“Go away,” he says, turning back forward. I laugh to myself as I run after him, what a funny guy!

“So you’re a guy, right? I’ll try to think of a guy’s name if you want me to and uh…” I think, scratching my cheek as I walk next to him. “I don’t actually know if I’m a guy or a girl, so I’ll let you decide what to call me.”

“Shut up!” he snaps at me, the fire inside of him growing to shine a little brighter.

“What do you think? I like pretty colors, but I also like to fight a lot. But I don’t know if those two things actually mean anything or if -“

Suddenly, there is a loud crack that I don’t so much hear, as I do feel, as it shoots down through my body. I stumble and fall down onto the ground onto my bottom, my free hand clutching my shattered eye-socket as I look up at the man who stands there, towering above myself with his fist still in the air.

“Shut up!” yells the man down at me again, pointing and I flinch together as his hand lowers my way. Narrowing his eyes, he turns around and walks off. I sit there down on the ground alone, holding my broken face as I watch him go. The swaying grass beneath myself tickles my body as the tips of its blades run over my exterior. The tickling sensation of them on me reminds me of the feeling of being touched. Ah. Remember that? When he touched my face before? That was nice.

What did I do wrong? Did I annoy you? I’m sorry! I’m a bad friend, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t be so annoying, I know. I’m sorry you had to hit me, but I deserved it. I’m the worst. Please don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone. Do you want to hit me again? Will that make you feel better? Will that make you like me? I watch, as the man shuffles off into the distance, taking a step with his broken legs and then two more in quick succession as he marches forward without me, dragging the heavy pole-axe behind him like a loose belt.

I jump up to my feet and run after him, smiling happily as I follow along. He really cares about me, guy. I’m just a troublesome person is all, it’s not his fault. It’s me. I’m bad. But I promise that I’ll become better! Just you wait and see!