by Most people went to maze's in an attempt to get to the other side - though the thrill to get lost added much to the excitement - Kyrie Popov on the other hand, had no concept of getting out, when he had walked into the maze.
In fact, if he had been consciously aware of his thought processes, the young man would have realized he wanted to get lost. What good was knowing where one was going? In getting lost one could find themselves.
There was nothing Ky wanted more in the world than to straighten out the muddle in his head. It was always muddled, always dulled. He didn't feel, and he didn't understand.
So when his pale blue eyes blinked like twin whispy balls of smoke at a wall of brambles in front of him, he did not think of turning the other way and trying again.
No, Kyrie merely fell to his knees before it, sinking into the snow and stayed there, as the sun rose high into the sky, and then began to sink.
In fact, if he had been consciously aware of his thought processes, the young man would have realized he wanted to get lost. What good was knowing where one was going? In getting lost one could find themselves.
There was nothing Ky wanted more in the world than to straighten out the muddle in his head. It was always muddled, always dulled. He didn't feel, and he didn't understand.
So when his pale blue eyes blinked like twin whispy balls of smoke at a wall of brambles in front of him, he did not think of turning the other way and trying again.
No, Kyrie merely fell to his knees before it, sinking into the snow and stayed there, as the sun rose high into the sky, and then began to sink.
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