Will could still sense the tremendous fear in the boy, whom had been forming up frantically. Will frowned, trying not to make direct sight of the small and sorrowed countenance. He wasn't able to.

The boy spoke up, semi inaudibly and with a pale manner, "Are you going to give me my whipping? It's been a while." It was apparent he had been musing over this, being stiff and hesitant the entire way.

"No." Will sighed and grasped the boy's shoulder reassuringly. "No, I won't." The consideration, the bare image pertaining to the boy's question made Will shiver. It was barely possible for him to even think of attacking the boy for such a stupid happening. It was an impulsive blunder, and it had been plainly seen that the boy was apologetic and regretful for the trouble he'd caused.

The boy plopped onto a park bench about a moment post, moaning and grasping his foot. He seemed either exhausted or in pain, or both. He wasn't to go any further on the foot.

Will, though cogitating on how he may have been intrusive, had joined him on the bench and was leaning closely. He was enormously distressed himself, discovering the boy in suffering and in need for tender care, that he jerked over to the foot. "Let me see that, buddy."

The boy grew overwrought, wide eyed and covered in grimace, stirring and pulling away. "No, don't hurt me!" Spreading his palms out before him, he forced his own security bubble from danger. "Go away, please, I don't want to be... My feet are most sensitive, and sore, if you're going to beat me then avoid them." He even pleaded for his request to be valid.

Will stood up and discreetly eased away for the boy to retrieve his space. Presently, his soul contained a mass of they boy's agony as if they collided and compared. Will could feel the rugged and brutal anguish coursing through the boy, and it was plenty unpleasant. He was unable to recognize what would provide the boy solace, excluding the personal space of which everyone needed. Could it be worse, shan't if so.

"No, no," the boy shockingly begged, with a hoarse and subdued tone, "please don't go."

Will gulped, wallowing in many horrible results of his contemplation. This boy had very least going for him. He was indecisive whether he desired to be accompanied or lonesome in the heat. The way of being accompanied and the definition of it was likely new to him, with the absurd state he'd been put into and the weight that was required to be held onto his disapproving shoulders. It seemed that the boy consistently dealt with the world's contempt according to the improper and depressed stance he took. It was a notion of Will that the boy took spectator's opinions as valid and grew insecure enough to not even focus on his own being.

Will slowly returned to the set of the bench, but continued to keep distance. The boy needed that, whether he could come to a conclusion of wanting it or not.

He met Will's eyes and politely smiled, then after noticing they had locked eyes he quickly glanced away. Will could only translate that as the boy's attempt of keeping simple and slow to go. He found it nice to find that the boy had low expectations.

"Thank you," the boy said, barely as hesitant as before, "for that. You saved me." He ran a hand over his neck, slightly hiding his blush and appreciation with his raised arm.

Will studied the smaller hand, the knuckles as worked and battered as the rest of the boy. But he chose to ignore the properties that related to harm, as it only struck him in the spirit, and he instead returned the pride. He convinced the denying boy that he did have to save him, that he was unable to allow the abuse to take place.

The boy repeated the blessing, then placed an uneasy hand on his chin that would make its way to cover parts of his nervous face. By making brief glances over, Will couldn't doubt that the boy was suffering utter tension since he'd been in that stage as well and was aware of the struggle. Will tried to balance between his empathy and sympathy, but could not come to a fair solution; it was all probably just build up of fear and the worse. And if Will experienced it, the boy should have most definitely felt twice as terrorized.

Nevertheless, regarding the bitterness, the boy had not been deterred to settle around Will and communicate. Will found that nice as well.

Will was the one to speak up this time, quietly in a way that wouldn't break the calm impression he created. He hung his head low. "Usually people have an explanation. You want to, maybe, tell me what happened back there?"

The boy replied, "This giant spider crawled on me. Scared the hell out of me. I tried to flick it away but then the people started whipping me. I don't know why, I didn't do anything wrong."

Will's senses completely collapsed about now. What the boy told him, in a few gulps, had seeped in and was slowly tearing up Will's spirit. It was the worst thing he'd heard in probably all his time, not including the fact that he wasn't familiar with the outer world.

"Or did I?"

"No you didn't," Will answered, not just because that was what the boy needed to hear but because it was the truth. "You did nothing wrong."

"Seems like I do. People are always punishing me and scolding me."

Will could see that the abuse not only caused the boy to feel miniature in the action, though also very guilty and shame-bearing. Shame-bearing of false accusations and misconceptions of punishment that was really just abuse.