"Standing here will not get us...me answers," Braska said, so used to travelling with companions that he voiced his thoughts aloud. He keenly missed his Guardians at that moment and briefly wondered if he would ever shake the feeling.
Considering that he'd never expected to have this much conscious awareness within the Farplane as a being made of pyreflies, Braska was unsure what was to become of him.
Where are the pyreflies? Am I really dead?
"If I was dead would something on my skin feel so sticky?" The summoner brushed at the drying bug goo, his nakedness bothering him somewhat. He needed clothing...He needed to find other people.
Looking at the paths, Braska chose the one slightly less covered with plantlife. He briefly hoped that the plants would not prove toxic to the touch or he would be in trouble.
I will never complain about my heavy robes ever again, he thought as he began to carefully weave between the greenery.