Re: Detaining Dio
He was rocking. It was sort of fun. Or it would be if it didn't come along with the crashing. And the crashing came with more pain. But the rocking was fun. He liked rocking.
And then he was falling. He grabbed hold of whatever was nearby to slow himself down, because falling was not nearly as good as rocking. He felt wood beneath his fingertips. It was dead wood. Dead and sad and devoid of purpose.
So he gave it a reason to live again. He made it live again. It would be a lovely tree, and perhaps he could rock in it's branches. Without the crashing.