[The last thing Add can remember is hurtling down into the trees before smacking face-first into a huge branch. Not exactly his best moment. His head is throbbing from the concussion, clothes torn, one of the chains on his coat has been ripped out... whatever happened in between, it wasn't fun, so maybe it's fine that he can't remember any of it. Good riddance.

More pressingly, he's managed to get himself completely stuck.

Did the vines save him from plummeting to his death? Yes, but. He would like to not be tangled in vines now, thanks. Instead, all his struggling seems to have just made the problem worse, and now he can barely move at all.

He can't even see if anyone's around to hear him... but he's irritated, and he stopped giving a shit awhile ago. Add sighs loudly, uncaring if some murderous animal hears him.]

Fine, whatever. Who fucking cares anymore! Not like I have anywhere else to be!

[He does, eventually get out of the tree. Step two is... where is this, exactly? Because Henir's Space was familiar to him, but this place... hmm.

He should be trying a lot harder to solve that mystery, but unfortunately, being surrounded by so many frightening and unfamiliar creatures... is very, very distracting. So much so that he's been standing by this stream for an hour now throwing berries in and watching it turn into a weird slush. How long does the effect last after the berry is plucked? Is it affected by the ripeness of the fruit? Is it produced exclusively from the berry's presence, or is it from some unseen secretion that could wash downstream? How many berries does it take to freeze the water solid? Could you freeze someone to death from the inside by feeding them too many of these? How many berries would that take?

He has about a million too many thoughts going on right now. But to an outsider, it probably just looks like a scraggly-looking kid in a cloak tossing berries in the river for fun. As kids do.]

[He's been avoiding the rest area, but he still ends up settling close to it when he needs to take a break. It's... comforting, in a weird way. Nostalgic. He likes being able to watch everyone, hidden from sight, close but uninvolved. It's the way things should be. He doesn't belong with people like that.

Wilderness survival was never his strong suite, though. He couldn't get a fire going without his machines around, all the plants seem too suspicious to eat... he's tired, cold, hungry. Unfortunately, he's also stubborn. He's going to sit here in the dark and be miserable even if it kills him.

... he can at least solve one of his problems, though. Gently, he removes the small bag from inside his jacket, staring down at the cute butter cookies within. They're all shaped like little cats, complete with frosted patterns and little dotted kitty eyes. Certainly the work of a true professional.

After staring at them in silence for a long time... he pulls the ribbon loose, takes a single calicookie and begins nibbling at the ear. He's going to take his time with these.]

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