[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border-width: 0px; width: 475px; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;]
It was dark. He remembered that, clear as day, despite the overwhelming insecurity of his senses. The blackness that night bestowed upon the sands and the trees left no room for moonlight nor twinkling stars. If he could peer up at the expanse of sky above, if he could see, he would be aware of the swirling clouds blocking everything above, the thick, voluminous sheet of stormy gray condensation telltale to summer's storms. However, the subtle fear that pricked in his core was just enough to force his gaze to flicker around level with the horizon, unable to see even inches in front of him. He was afraid. It was a terrified sort of trembling that had taken to his body, for the rain that had suddenly began to drench the sands around him was not cold; it was warm, like the embrace of the ocean around him, but far less comforting. The loud barrage of raindrops against his ears deafened him, like the stormy canopy did blind him, but not to the rumbling of the sky. Being alone in the midst of a storm was new to him, back then. In the present day, it was strange to be anything but alone; he remembered not his parent's faces, their feelings, their care, nor did he had siblings to recall. It was right after he was truly alone, for the very first time, that the storm had hit to match his unbridled sorrow. A concoction of his fear and unrest swaddled together within the depths of the storm which ravaged the isle. Dark, loud, and terrifying to his bright, hushed, terrified. What he remembered most of all from that time, however, was the bright flash of something and the crack of thunder against his skull.
Of course, as Aritotle was padding through camp amongst the cabins and people, his malfunctioning telepathy had to resurface. The sound that ricocheted through the expanse of his skull was so loud that it physically stunned him; in ceasing his stroll, the feline stumbled into a halt, eyes screwing shut painfully. It reminded him of the thunder, the sound of his malfunction, and the trickling memories of his tucked away youth arose from the abyss that he had condemned them through. Perhaps, on accident, he had impressed such thoughts of rememberance on those around him, but he hoped that his mind remained to itself. Maybe, crumbling into a sitting position as he bowed his pounding head, his thoughts were silent, and he only appeared to be having a migraine.
[/fancypost]
