All Welcome [WP] can you hear me through the white noise?

Overstimulated. He was overstimulated. This walk. The noise. The chaos. He could barely remember how he got here, his stubby little legs propelling him after a family that had encouraged his presence at some "party," or something.

A smile hung on his dark lips, his bright green eyes dilated and looking at absolutely nothing.

And his skin tingled.

(He was so itchy, actually.)

All he could hear was a soft hum in the back of his head. It was silent to everyone else, but it was something akin to a soft lullaby. It was Sølvi's voice ... a soothing, comforting sound that he played in silence and on repeat in the background of his own head. But even so, he was not grounded. He was dissipating. And he needed to find a way to return himself to his body.

He was floating away, wasn't he?

And so, when they'd settled at the guest den, Hemlock had marched straight out of it. He would stretch his little limbs, tracing the soft earth with his paws in an effort to reconnect. The ground here was ... so delicate. So gentle. And far less frozen. And it would be so easy to tear into it. So easy to ... dig.

Dig. Dig. Dig.

The lullaby of Solvi's voice would twist into a demanding snarl in his mind. And Hemlock would obey, taking his tiny baby paws and using them to rough up the earth, tearing at the ground and pawing deeper and deeper into the dampness of the foreign soil. He would do it. He would dig. He would mutilate.

He wasn't sure where he was going.

Was he supposed to know?