The twinkling stars wander by, ever shifting shape and confusing him. Around in all else was nothing but blackness. He cried out, but heard only the echo of a strange place returning to him, calling out the way he had initially before something warm and soft stroked his cheek. He quiets himself and watches the strange, pretty lights. They begin to melt, merging into one mass of blinding color, and he looks slightly away, bewildered, as the inky mass swirls and pools around his feet. He is one with it, a thing he concludes is also himself, staring down at his own spots of light along his body which seem to follow everywhere he goes. He sighs, uncomfortable but beginning to calm under the warm nudge of a nose, and stills himself to peace. The ink of colors whorling and twisting into more and more shapes.