When Hyde opened his eyes, the sun greeted him with light. Grass brushed against and tickled his cheek and any exposed skin. The leaves of the trees rustled in the wind, like natures chimes. Scent of dirt and forest filled his nostrils as he took in a breath. No towering big buildings looming over him. Hyde immediately noticed one thing in particular— this was not London.
London was foggy and gloomy, the sun hardly ever shined through the thick, gray clouds. It was always full of life, smelling of trash, alcohol, rotting bodies, and smoke from the chimneys. Buildings built and stacked one after another, barely enough space for anyone to live comfortably without money and power. Here, though, it was quiet, and though lively— not in the way Hyde knew well. It was almost eerie.
Hyde leapt to his feet, brushing his usual clothes of a white button up, green vest, and dark slacks off before actually taking a look around.
There was a gaping cavern just a little ways from him, yawning open with darkness, ready to swallow anything that dares enter. A small cave sat right next to him, its mouth opened, but not welcoming in any way. There was forest almost all around him and the cave and cavern. The trees towered high above, a lot like the buildings he was use to— but less lively, more quiet, only making sound when the wind rushed through its branches.
It was a bit more like Jekyll’s memories of stomping through wooden areas in search of ingredients for a new experiment of following Morcant through the woods. Hyde himself had no memories of ever doing that.
(“Because the woods are dangerous at night,” Jekyll murmured.)
It was almost like thinking of Jekyll conjured him within his mind.
(“We share the same mind, Hyde.”)
Hyde cleared his throat before replying:
