[ Will feels the hair on the back of his neck raise, but he's been unable to talk about this experience for too long for fear to completely eclipse his relief. ]

I have. It was like a...memory of a dog painted over empty space. [ Okay, Mister Metaphor, calm down. Shadows, though - that's what Will had instinctively called them too, even if they were too other to really look like actual shadows. ]

I guess we might just both be losing it, though. [ There is...just a hint of sarcastic humor to Will's voice, there. It's meant as a joke, he's just...a bit flat. ] Did yours-- do anything?