He doesn't know what he's doing in the middle of the forest, or why it felt like he'd just passed through a thousand suns. His head hurt, and he knew he was forgetting something.
Everything is bright and green, sunlight filling the clearing he's starting to get up from. He feels constrained in an old and dying vessel.
In the distance, shouting draws his attention away from the strange looking gun in his hands.
"Stanley!" He can sense the urgency, the panic.
Stanley... Pines. The memories feel like dreams that elude him.
"Stanley!"
Sooner or later, he is sure the ripples in the waters will calm, and everything will become clear with time. For now, he will focus on the disheveled man tearing into the clearing.
"Stanley, you didn't use it, did you?" He watched the other man stride over, his eyes wild with what must be a million thoughts crossing his mind.
"Course not." Lying. Lying was like second nature to breathing. He grinned, offering the gun to his brother. Yes, his brother... Stanford. "Relax, Ford."
"Why'd you take off running? It's dangerous out here, and you know it."
"Nothing I can't handle." He assured his elder sibling. "'Sides, we've seen worse out at sea. I can take care of a few gnomes."
Ford looked displeased. He stashed the gun in his belt and looked around like he was expecting something to jump out. Nothing.
Stan clasped his brother's shoulder, "C'mon." He started heading for where Ford had broke through the trees. "You think I freaked out the kids?" He asked. "Tell em I lost my memories again. I'd kill to see their reactions." He laughed.