Anchor

Returned

It didn't matter to him whether it was day or night. He could see well either way. Yet, he preferred the dark. Even if there was no chance that people would see him, he didn't want to take any risk. People don't often see well in the dark. He thrived in it. It gave him a sense of peace and security. He loved to roam around until he was either energy deprived, bored or it became daytime again.

Mindlessly and aimlessly he sauntered through the park. It was such a quiet night. It drizzled slightly and there were hardly any people out and about. He found most of them inside, chatting around a lit-up tree. He never understood why people would cut down a tree, drag it home and put lights in it. And other sparkly things. Only to throw it away after a couple of weeks. Last year they did it too when the nights were long and the air was cold. He didn't understand many things. It took him a long time to understand how to come here. How to get back. When to get back, before his energy fully ran out and he was stranded in that void of nothingness. It took him days to gather the strength to get back from that void. To get back to the other side. He shivered at the thought. He never wanted to go back to the void. Ever.

The drizzle had changed. The tiny little droplets had grown to thicker, woolly flecks of coldness. They danced in the air and laid down a soft blanket on the damp floor. It added to the quietness around him. Dampened any sound one could make. It didn't bother him. The flecks. It turned his dark clothes white. The cold didn't hurt him, like it seemed to hurt other people. He didn't have to put socks on his hands for protection, or huddle in his vest.

He was bored. He normally liked to watch people, see what they did. Trying to understand what they were doing. But now... nobody.

The park was big, but not big enough to stay for the entire night. He didn't know why he came here. He usually let his feet decide the direction he was going. Following a scent or a sound towards something new. But now, it was the third time in a row he was drawn to the park. There was a tension in the air. A thickness that couldn't be explained. Like he was waiting on something. Or someone.

He was walking around in circles around a big tree. His fingers slid on the bark, feeling the grooves and edges, his boots kicking the roots on the cold floor, stepping on them or over them as he made yet another circle. He was humming tunelessly, since he didn't know any songs. Maybe he did once, but not anymore. Not since he... returned. That's probably the right name for it. Returning. He never figured out where he returned from. Or maybe even what. He stopped caring a long time ago. It didn't bring him any comfort. He just had the chance to start anew, and that was what he was doing. Or trying to do.

A gentle scent drifted towards him. It was like fresh laundry and flowers, smells he recognized from the warm days. Smells that shouldn't be here right now, not when it was cold. He stepped away from the tree and closed his eyes. He sniffed the air, trying to figure out where that scent came from. It was so faint. So far away, yet so easy to follow. He kept to the shadows, the dark areas that the white didn't touch, away from the light of the moon. He knew it was pointless, but he did it anyway. Nobody had ever seen him, but it was a natural instinct that came to him. He hid behind a bare bush which clung to its last five leaves. Through the branches he had found the source. There was a young person, a woman. She appeared to be hunching, hiding from the flecks yet she didn't rush. This was different. She took small steps, it was almost like she was dancing. Sounds were coming from her mouth in a rhythmic way, her hands moved along to the beat. He cocked his head to the sound and moved slightly, trying to get a better view. What was she doing? It sounded so beautiful, even if she spoke softly. Who was she speaking to? What was she saying?

He tried to take a step towards her, when a hand caught his arm. In a flash he turned around towards the hand. He hadn't been touched in... in forever. Ever since the Return. It didn't feel right. He pulled his arm free and stepped back, creating distance between him and the figure before him.