Stone doesn't really see that well, except at a distance, and distance vision doesn't do shit when everything's dark. So, it's probably not surprising that for several days, he doesn't know what the shit has gone wrong with everyone else in this damn village. He perches on roofs and in trees in an attempt to get a better look from higher up, he calls down, "Hey. You okay, kid?" Even if the person he's talking to isn't actually a kid.
II. Second half of the event
Then the hallucinations ramp up a little, and the hands are more like vaguely distracting fluttery things he swats half-heartedly at, occasionally one worms its way into his own hand and he spends a few minutes holding a wrist no one else can see and... smiling a little. Because that feels right, holding somebody's wrist as he eats dinner or walks down the path.
But the worst part is the scent. Stone is sitting at the shoreline, minding his own business, when the wind lofts the scent of Fell at him. He surges to his feet, and into his full winged form-- spines all flared like a giant dragonic porcupine, tail lashing, wings mantled like an angry hawk. The water and vegetation next to him literally vibrates with the depth of his growl.
After that, smells keep popping up at random times, and sometimes he realizes they're not real and just growls low in his (still groundling-sized) throat, but sometimes they send him prowling through town in search of the source. Just in case something needs tearing apart to protect the town. Once it makes him stop short, hitch a breath, and make a low, keening sound in the back of his throat.
Most of the time, though, he's fairly steady, and ready to say to anyone who looks like they're having a hard time, "What do you see? I'll tell you if I smell it, if I don't smell it, it can't be there. All right?"
OTA
Stone doesn't really see that well, except at a distance, and distance vision doesn't do shit when everything's dark. So, it's probably not surprising that for several days, he doesn't know what the shit has gone wrong with everyone else in this damn village. He perches on roofs and in trees in an attempt to get a better look from higher up, he calls down, "Hey. You okay, kid?" Even if the person he's talking to isn't actually a kid.
II. Second half of the event
Then the hallucinations ramp up a little, and the hands are more like vaguely distracting fluttery things he swats half-heartedly at, occasionally one worms its way into his own hand and he spends a few minutes holding a wrist no one else can see and... smiling a little. Because that feels right, holding somebody's wrist as he eats dinner or walks down the path.
But the worst part is the scent. Stone is sitting at the shoreline, minding his own business, when the wind lofts the scent of Fell at him. He surges to his feet, and into his full winged form-- spines all flared like a giant dragonic porcupine, tail lashing, wings mantled like an angry hawk. The water and vegetation next to him literally vibrates with the depth of his growl.
After that, smells keep popping up at random times, and sometimes he realizes they're not real and just growls low in his (still groundling-sized) throat, but sometimes they send him prowling through town in search of the source. Just in case something needs tearing apart to protect the town. Once it makes him stop short, hitch a breath, and make a low, keening sound in the back of his throat.
Most of the time, though, he's fairly steady, and ready to say to anyone who looks like they're having a hard time, "What do you see? I'll tell you if I smell it, if I don't smell it, it can't be there. All right?"