At times like this, he much preferred to stand; the stars emblazoning the night sky dizzied him, and as long as he was awake, he figured he could at least walk himself closer to exhaustion.
Settling in the wilderness was certainly not something that the trio enjoyed, save perhaps Patty, but with as isolated as their mission had been, and as injured as he was (despite knowing that he would soon recover), it was simply easier to find an area where they would not be disturbed and rest amongst the grass and trees until they were all well enough for flight in the morning.
It was rare that he took the time to appreciate the cadence of chirruping bugs, but somehow tonight, he had found the opportunity.
It wasn't because he enjoyed the sound itself; to be honest, he felt quite the opposite regarding the noise that creatures made, human being or otherwise. They beat against his fragile eardrums like unforgiving waves of chaotic disharmony, agitating his nerves, and even more so when he was already agitated. Few appreciated quiet as deeply as he, for few could imagine just how intense such miniscule things could be to someone who was destined to be everything that life was not.
But it was just that that he paused to appreciate now in the music of the insects, agitating or otherwise — life.
They were a part of the world that he was obligated to maintain, down into the very core of his being. They were intact, yet to be ravaged and extinguished, and their cries were proof of their existences.
As long as the opportunity to live was still preserved, he still held a purpose in this world, because without life, he would have nothing to protect. To stand for.
And as much as he longed for the quiet, it occurred to him that he believed more deeply than anything that if all were quiet, he would lose himself to a fate worse than forced patience and agitated nerves — oblivion.
