Isolating Tendancies [Open]

Sam's instinct was to hide. To become small, to move into the shadows, to get himself away from anything, anyone, that could trick him into trusting again. He wanted to shrink away into the cracks of his home and never talk again, never put his stupid stuttering voice into the world for it to be twisted and taken from him. But...he couldn't. Not anymore. He had a shop, now, and a cat, and as much as he struggled to believe it - a life. Remi was not the be all and end all for him. There were things to be done and as much as his heart screamed at him not to leave the house, he forced himself out. However even the most determined courage couldn't stop his nerves attacking him. It was the first day of Flowerbirth, the end of the Longnight; that much was a relief for he did not like the monsters, but the fresh sunlight already made him focus his eyes on the ground. With his head dipped and his back pressed against the door of his house, he looked the picture of fear and sadness. Shakily, he forced one foot forward. Then another. And another. Until he was about five steps from his house. Then he stopped again. To anyone watching it would appear bizarre, as if there were a rope holding him back to the door. SAMUEL Another little digit on my lifespan, what a bore And what once was fresh and green Now marches in the ranks of the obscene This whole transfiguration thing is such a chore