"Speech"

Todd didn't know what was going on. He didn't know if there was anyone following him. But in his delirious pain, Todd thought that so long as he could escape his attackers, the pain would go away too. He'd never felt true pain before, and now, with most of his lower half blistered and smouldering, he didn't understand it. He didn't care what was going on, he just wanted to get away.

Perhaps Caravaggio had saved him, yes.

Perhaps the bull had followed him. Todd didn't know. Whilst their conversation had continued, Todd had tried to simply slip away. Descending from sheer joy in his despair to fear in a matter of seconds, he'd made for the nearest exit and refused to look back. With paralyzed legs, he couldn't raise himself high enough to move properly. Contrary to his childish thoughts, the pain had only seemed to worsen, perhaps with his injuries dragging on the cold stone floor.

But how could he know? The little one didn't know about healing or injuries or the difference between herbivores and carnivores. All that mattered in his world was him. Todd.

With tiny claws scrabbling, Todd struggled desperately to move another inch. He wanted to get away, he had to get away from... from this pain. If he could just get away from it, all would be okay. He didn't want to lie here forever feeling like this; that fear was worse than that of death. Because Todd didn't understand death.

He couldn't feel it creeping in ever closer...