Pangur Bán

[petite_firebird]

There’s a wagon in the children’s section of one of the clothing stores. It’s a perfectly ordinary wagon with red paint on it, but the animals inside were far from that. A disinterested catwing watched as a boy went between racks and looked at clothes that picked themselves up seemingly on their own. In the boy’s arms was an espurr some might recognize as little Francour, but the man known as Mantis to many was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, the espurr sat on the boy’s shoulders, using the straps of his gas mask for a bit of leverage to keep upright.

 

Several shirts were looked at as the boy went around the racks. He turned his head slightly at times, as if listening to something, and finally pulled a shirt or two down. There were black shirts, stripped shirts, and a couple of pairs of pants floating slowly into the wagon. The boy followed the clothes and waved his hands, causing the clothes to haphazardly fold themselves into something resembling a neat pile.

 

Perhaps most distinct about the boy were the clothes presently on his body. The straight jacket was black with Russian lettering on it, and it dragged almost all the way down to his knees. The sleeves trailed almost a full foot off of where his hands stopped, and the leggings under the straight jacket ended at bare feet. He didn’t seem to make any kind of noise other than the slightest bit of breathing. The boy knelt down next to the wagon and let Francour slide off to sit next to the catwing. He pet both of them carefully, and tilted his head to one side.

 

Suddenly, quietly, a little voice moves around the air around the boy. It uses ideas more than words, but some might recognize the words as being Czech.

 

Why do the two of you know who I am?

 

((OOC: Psycho Mantis has been de-aged to his state of about ten years old in MGSV. He's mute, so people sensitive to telepathy beware!))