And then when he woke up, it was like he was entering a dream instead of leaving it. He had to dig his fingernails in into his palms, feel the faint pain to remind himself that in fact this was the real world now, and there was no going back. His mother's stories only existed in his memories.
Adjusting was a hard process, but once he got past this morning routine, Killian could find ways to enjoy himself, and forget about what troubled him. Often times he did that by preoccupying himself with the people here, all of those he'd met so far had been exceedingly kind to him. When he didn't feel like being social, he found exploring the fields and forests to be very comforting. That was what he planned to do today, and so he slipped out of his temporary room in the clinic and made his way down a worn path to the outskirts.
oh well, maybe not, let’s try again