[ disoriented and still somewhere between dreaming and awake, dwight scrambles the second the weight on his back lifts up and off, flipping onto his back and shuffling away from the edge of the bed on his hands and pushing with his heels. he doesn't recognize the voice speaking to him, and without his glasses he can hardly make anything out clear enough for any sort of comfort. it's only when he nearly topples over the opposite side of the bed that he stops, breathing hard, eyes fluctuating between widening and squinting. fearful, and wanting to see who the fuck and what the fuck is going on.
it takes him a few long moments to settle. to realize that the softness underneath his palms his not dirt, but a lush comforter and soft sheets, and that this is - this is the manor, and not the woods. not the fog. he's safe - or, at least, safer than he's been in a while. no murdery serial killers here.
embarrassed and still kind of clueless, dwight scrambles forward on his knees and reaches out toward his bedstand, patting his hand around for his glasses. ]
Uh— [ his voice shakes a little, mostly due to anxiety and the adrenaline still coursing through him. ] —sorry. Sorry I just -
[ pat pat pat - gotcha.. dwight slides his glasses onto his face a little haphazardly, fingers touching one of the lenses by accident and leaving prints. he blinks through them, brows pinched as dom and - a fucking snow leopard??? come into focus.
shit. that kid is his neighbor. he clears his throat. what time is it? dwight doesn't even remember falling asleep. is he still in his regular clothes? he looks down. he's still in his regular clothes. jesus. ]
I, uh. Bad dream. Very bad dream. Did I wake you? And your... what is that, a leopard?
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it takes him a few long moments to settle. to realize that the softness underneath his palms his not dirt, but a lush comforter and soft sheets, and that this is - this is the manor, and not the woods. not the fog. he's safe - or, at least, safer than he's been in a while. no murdery serial killers here.
embarrassed and still kind of clueless, dwight scrambles forward on his knees and reaches out toward his bedstand, patting his hand around for his glasses. ]
Uh— [ his voice shakes a little, mostly due to anxiety and the adrenaline still coursing through him. ] —sorry. Sorry I just -
[ pat pat pat - gotcha.. dwight slides his glasses onto his face a little haphazardly, fingers touching one of the lenses by accident and leaving prints. he blinks through them, brows pinched as dom and - a fucking snow leopard??? come into focus.
shit. that kid is his neighbor. he clears his throat. what time is it? dwight doesn't even remember falling asleep. is he still in his regular clothes? he looks down. he's still in his regular clothes. jesus. ]
I, uh. Bad dream. Very bad dream. Did I wake you? And your... what is that, a leopard?