INTERIOR - A room on the 3rd floor of the Ruttford branch of the Silvo's Inn and Suites, a reasonably nice-leaning inn business in the Windnds. Appeals mostly to travelling merchants and other businessmen. Offers reasonably sized, well-furnished rooms, with spacious and comfortable bathroom appliances. And miniature iceboxes. How nifty!

  Presently, the room has been reorganized- The chairs and desks have been moved to one side, and the bed has been pushed as close to the wall as possible. An easel and a set of paints and brushes ys near the center, facing the window, from which the early evening sun shines through.

  PRESENT - THE BOY (wearing his usual threadbare, peasant clothes. Currently standing between the window and the easel, with his usual wide-eyed stare, although notably more confused than usual.) MOUSE (Same as before. A tall, lithe, elegant young man, with flowing blonde hair and emerald-gold robes. Currently sitting mildly angrily )

  TIME - Early evening. A nice, early-evening sun streams its gentle light through the window.

  "oh. i se-"

  "Ugh, LOOK!" Mouse's cheeks were tinted red with anger, and he began to undute with his hands to punctuate his words. "This- this is part of the artistic process!"

  "what is?"

  "I-It's- Well, OBVIOUSLY, I cannot begin to create REAL art without having a clear understanding of my subject!" His voice had an air of confidence about it, despite his anger. "Yes, that's it! Portraiture is not such a shallow subject that I can merely paint what I see with my eyes! I need to be able to see you with my HEART, my very SOUL! Else it is not art, b-but merely... Creative py! Such shallow art- it has no more value than the scribbling of a child!"

  "noted." The boy nodded, doing his best to understand. "so have you not been doing art up until this-"

  "Shut your mouth, boy."

  The boy did.

  "... You may open it to respond to further questions." Mouse was a quick learner.

  The boy nodded.

  Mouse closed his eyes and took in a deeper breath, trying to compose himself. He raised his brush to the canvas once again, but leaned beside his easel to look at the boy's face.

  "So... Let's start this over, shall we?" His face was still slightly reddened and his brow furrowed, but some poise had returned to his voice.

  "yes. we should."

  "That..." Mouse held himself back from snapping at the boy for answering a rhetorical question, as if he would have been justified in doing so. "... Yes, let's..."

  "okay."

  Mouse cleared his throat. "So... Behind those wide, curiously pathetic eyes of yours, what is it that lies there? What do you seek? Why do you wake up in the morning, why do you continuously tolerate your otherwise pathetic and pitiable existence?"

  "to sense things."

  "Sense?" Mouse made a few absent-minded strokes on the canvas. "What? How?"

  "all things." The boy states. "to see. hear. touch. smell... other things as well. to sense."

  "Hm..." Mouse squints at his canvas. "Sense..." He repeats, forcefully giving his voice a whimsical tone. "So, you simply wish to experience... What? What is it in particur that gives you your drive to persist?"

  "anything."

  "Ehh..." Eye twitch. "O-Okay, but what specifically gets you out of bed in the morning? Is it the grandness of the human animal- The natural majesty of our strange and wonderful nds- The way man and beast falls apart when split and torn asunder- The overwhelming intensity of ingenuity and progress in fields of study and creation..."

  "yes. all of that." The boy thought about nodding, but didn't.

  "I..." Twitcy-twitchy. "No, but, like, what SPECIFICALLY."

  "things. everything. all of the things. every all of it."

  "NO, B-But, like-!" Mouse's brush-holding hand began to tremble. "What is it that MOVES you! That EXCITES you! What is it you truly wish to know?"

  "..." The boy blinked a few times, his mouth agape as his mind buffered.

  Mouse raised his eyebrows, as if to say 'WELL! GO ON!'

  "hat." Said the boy.

  "UUUUUGGGHHH." Mouse groaned and rolled his eyes, his entire head rolling along with them. "Now you're just speaking nonsense... Enough of this! Moving on..."

  "okay."

  Mouse steadied his brush once more. "So, you wish to 'sense...' Why? After everything's done, what is your goal?"

  "to increase my understanding."

  "Why? To what end?"

  The boy paused once more, and blinked.

  "it is why i am here. my purpose." The boy's voice had a smidgen of something akin to dobut.

  "Purpose?" Mouse raised a 'brow. "Given by whom? Or... What?"

  "i do not know. it might be me. or not."

  "Might..?" Mouse stilled his brushing hand. "So... There is a possibility that there is some... Some something beyond yourself?"

  "possibly."

  "And... What do you, what would they, or it, want with this understanding?"

  "... i do not know." The boy said once more.

  "You don't...." Mouse repeated. "... And, does that concern you? This... Gap in your existence? Having this insatiable... Urge, drive, this 'purpose', yet no destination? No reason? No light at the end of the tunnel? And, if there is one... No reason to believe it's anything you would truly desire?"

  Mouse could feel his heart beating in his chest. The world around him seemed all of a sudden heavier, as his words hung in the air, a dark promise that threatened to alter the course of their entire existences, perhaps even the fate of the entirety of the w-

  "no." The boy said.