[Those wandering in the village might happen across yet another child in clothes that seem far too big for him, with shaggy hair and dirty skin, and chains around his wrists. He seems less concerned about his restraints, however, despite the cold. Instead he stares upward, squinting into a sky so bright it hurts his eyes to look at.]

Did...did I die?

[His voice is soft, and after he speaks, he seems almost surprised at the way his own words sound. Unaware of the nearby book broadcasting his image, the boy clutches his cloak tighter around him, familiar with that piece of cloth at least.]

[ooc:. I 1) lack icons, 2) am phone posting, and 3) fail. Please pretend the pictures match? orz]