And just like that the number of people in the room had nearly tripled. There were a lot of people now; it was slightly overwhelming for the man who had been in self-exile for a year. “One at a time,” he muttered to himself.

“ Link, hm?” Odd name, although the Once-ler wasn’t one to comment. “I’m the Once-ler. The ‘the’ isn’t really necessary, though.” Introductions were cut short as one of the newcomers came over to him and addressed him, offering aid and presenting him with her hair.

The girl’s voice seemed familiar; hadn’t she been screaming for Soma in the hall? But she looked relatively fine, aside from the blood in her very… very long hair. The Once-ler found himself staring. With a groan, he raised himself slowly into a sitting position to better reach the offered lock. He hesitated slightly before taking it; having a stranger offer her hair to him was very strange. But she said it would help, and though he couldn’t see how the Once-ler was in no position to reject any offers.

The girl’s hair was extremely silky; such a familiar feeling, yet so very distant. A brief flash of regret and sorrow crossed his face. Not now, he thought. He swallowed sharply and quashed the memories quickly. It was hardly an appropriate time for reminiscing.

To keep his mind off the silky texture in his hand, the Once-ler turned his head up to face the girl. “You seem to be alright,” he stated flatly. Making casual conversation was a skill that had gotten rusty. It was easy enough to ask important questions or make remarks on situations; he’d done a lot of that before even arriving at Landel’s, talking to his reflection or asking the barren wilderness for a hint, in some vain hope of getting some kind of response.

But holding a conversation with someone else? He hadn’t done that in ages.