Consciousness sways to and fro, flickers of awareness drifting in and out of his fractured mind as his slumped figure is carried through the dense plant life here. @Gawain had found him, thankfully; had he been recovered by his father's men, he'd have no doubt been torn apart. Shadows flicker and swirl in the corners of his brain as he begins to wake, realizing someone is carrying him - panic, elemental and without logic, roars through his body. Limbs flail, and his lithe figure rolls, slipping off Gawain's back and landing roughly on the jungle floor. Weak, pitiful snarls of warning rumble in his chest, red eyes staring but not seeing - visions of the past consume his mind, leaving him stranded in a time prior to now. All he registers is that there is someone he doesn't know in front of him, and that means enemy; luckily, his body is too weak to do anything about it.

Gawain stopped when his passenger fell off. "I would have let you down if you'd asked." Gawain's voice came out as more of a grumble than he really intended, but since the lion was actively trying (and failing) to attack him, he supposed it didn't really matter too much. This had been so much easier when he was passed out.

The lion he had been carrying was still young. When he was full grown, they would probably be the same size. "Settle down, you're not there anymore. No one is attacking you. I'm not gonna take you back." The older lion sat and curled his tail around his paws, waiting for him to come to his senses.

@Phantom

The words that spill from @Gawain's mouth make no sense to the maddened creature that Phantom has become. He speaks as if Phantom is free, and the wraith knows better than that. He's finally lost his mind - that's the only explanation for this, he thinks, but as his wary red eyes flicker around, he realizes... he isn't there anymore. He's somewhere he's never been before in his entire life, in a landscape like nothing he's ever known, and this pauses the growls rumbling in his throat.

Carmine gaze widens, features startling upwards toward the sky as a bird flutters overhead, calling to its mate. His face softens with surprise - with shock - as he really begins processing his surroundings. You're... not one of them? His voice is hoarse and rough with disuse - but somehow still pleasant to the ear. Pointed ears relax from their pinned-down stance, and those rich ruby eyes circle back to Gawain - still wary, still distrustful, but no longer outright hostile.

"Do I smell like one of them?" He spat the word smell as if it disgusted him. Which, to be fair, it did. The darkstone stench was abhorrent- fear and blood and rot all mingled together. He didn't know how they could stand it. The desert did them no favors in hiding the stench. He felt the need to bathe every time he left. Which, he typically did.

"I don't imagine you'd have survived if they had caught you. Or at least, you'd be a lot worse off. What do you remember?" He needed to consult Elijah on how to be comforting when transporting recent rescues. It was not his forté by any means. Up until recently, he hadn't felt it mattered, since they probably wouldn't believe him anyways. But maybe it would help with the adjustment?

@Phantom

TW FOR MENTIONS OF CANNIBALISM, GORE, AND OTHER DISTURBING SUBJECTS. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

The vehemence with which @Gawain questions the wraith elicits a small, begrudging smile; perhaps it should have been obvious based on scent alone that the other male wasn't one of his captors, but Phantom no longer trusts his own senses. Nor does he trust his own mind anymore, not with shadows dancing at the edges of his vision, and malicious laughter a cacophonous symphany in his ears. What do you remember? Gawain asks, and Phantom visibly flinches.

I remember... pain. Violence. I remember my bastard of a father, and his sick fucking games. His lips peel back over his teeth, a snarl vibrating his chest. It loses its efficacy quickly, though - the wraith is far too exhausted to sustain his rage right now. His expression turns morose in the absence of his hatred, a quiet sigh escaping him. I remember eating those who fell to the elites' disgusting forms of amusement. I remember... voices, when no one was speaking, and shadows dancing when no one was there.

Gawain's ears flattened back into his mane as he listened. It all lined up. He'd had more than a strong suspicion that he was from darkstone, but this well confirmed any doubts he may have had. "So you're unlucky enough to have ol' Landy as your dad. Poor bastard." Gawain figured half the pride was related to Landicus in some way, but it seemed his kids often got special treatment in the worst ways.

"Getting away will help your mind. Rest will help your body. And food that isn't other lions." There was no judgement in those words. He knew that many turned to such things to try to survive. But it was bad for the mind and body. "Do you remember getting away?"

@Phantom

The mention of his father's name has Phantom sneering, muzzle wrinkled all over again with how much he despises that disgusting male. Unfortunately. Phantom agrees, looking away from @Gawain. The tainted blood in his veins is like acid, burning and bubbling and keeping him awake at night. Gawain's next words - and his question - bring those garnet eyes back to look at him again, exhaustion written in the lines on Phantom's face. I... I don't. I think... maybe I killed someone? He frowns, trying his best to think. I'm not sure what happened. I just remember the laughter, so loud I couldn't think. I wanted to get away from it. As if on cue, that vile voice hisses a laugh in his ear, and he shudders. How do you run away from something that's in your head? I mean - no matter where you go, you're still there, and that's the problem. There's no speed fast enough to escape your own mind, especially not when it's hellbent on tormenting you with shadows and voices that don't exist.

Gawin frowned slightly. "Not your fault you're related to him. My grandfather was just as bad." His grandfather and his great grandfather, and his father for a time, were the reason Gawain had a job now, and part of the reason Darkstone had expanded as quickly as it had.

"It may come back to you, it may not. If it doesn't, don't push it. When the brain forgets, it's best to leave it alone. As for the voices..." the larger lion paused and chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking. They hadn't dealt with voices before. "Once you rest and get well, you can try finding a cleric or medic. They may be able to help. Keeping busy helps too. You've had a traumatic... life. It will take time to heal. Most of the lions here are good folk- maybe you'll find some friends."

@Phantom

@Gawain's words are somewhat comforting - surely, if the older male is able to turn his sordid legacy into something positive, Phantom can do the same? Sorry to hear that, the wraith murmurs, sighing softly. My mam said I'm cursed. 'Cause my antlers are two different colors. She'd approved of Phantom's being thrown out like garbage, because she hadn't wanted anything to do with his supposed curse. Or at least, she'd made Landicus believe that. In the few stolen moments they'd gotten together, she'd loved him fiercely, more fiercely than anything, and she'd told him she believed one day his curse would lift. Maybe... maybe that day is today. Maybe now that he's free, he isn't cursed anymore?

Gawain's advice makes sense for the most part, except for the last sentence. Red eyes look up at the older male, wide and confused. What are friends? He asks, his voice quiet and troubled. Growing up in Darkstone hadn't exactly been conducive to his education on positive things in life, and Phantom hadn't had any friends in the arena. Only future victims, whenever the elites got bored enough to force them to challenge him. He'd never wanted to kill any of them - they'd been as trapped as he - but he hadn't wanted to die, either. He did what he had to in order to survive, but - again - it hadn't been at all conducive to teaching him about things like friends. He wouldn't even know what to do with a friend if he happened to find one, at this point in his life.

"You're not cursed, kid. Just had bad luck Born in a bad place to shitty parents." He looked him over, taking stock of his markings, his pointed ears. He'd be popular here, with his unusual markings and handsome coloration.

He frowned at the young lion's next words. He should have seen that question coming, but it still caught him off guard. He had to think about the answer. He didn't really have multiple friends. He had Naz, who was essentially his kid, and Elijah, who was... a friend? Something more? He still wasn't sure what that relationship was.

"Friends are... others that you care about. You're there for them and they're there for you. You look out for each other." They tried to come up with another way to explain it. "Basically, it's like an alliance, but solely because you care about and like each other."

@Phantom