The worst thing about always being on the move...
Neos had in his hands one of the stones that resided from the Rainbow Road, looking over it in amazement from how it kept its multiple colors despite having been moved from its location. It was a relatively-flat one, one he could flip in his hand like a coin with relative ease. The place he was now, a pool that was occasionally flooded by the evening tides to carry away whatever was in them that day, had caught his eye and he had wanted to chill there to process what all had been happening since the last slivers of summer passed him by here and moved on to fall, to Leafchange, he heard the season be called in the port."There has to be a way out," Neos muttered to himself, neon-green eyes looking up towards the horizon as he kicked bare feet in the water, "at least for those that want out." His yellow shoes were next to him, annoyed at how he couldn't just make them disappear by pulling them into himself anymore.
The clothes he wore upon arriving in Caido, they were once just as much a part of his body and DNA as the rest of him, now they've been separated by the Voice's alterations. It annoyed him, but he hoped to find a way around it. There was always a way, the trick was always going to be finding it...and it sounds like this Voice was actively opposing anyone finding the way out.
...is that no one believes the tales that emerge later on.
NEOS
