[DROP] something radiates

MILO

now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"

Is he flying? He’s going to assume yes. Milo moves through the fog with some deep rooted sense of purpose, shifting through it and feeling like he could be going both a million miles an hour and crawling at a snail's pace. But he continues on, the scent of the ocean overwhelming his senses, and when given what feels almost like a cross roads, Milo stays on the path ahead.

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Milo stays heading forward with the warm winds!

that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"