"Why are you sitting up there?", you asked and let yourself fall back.

"I'm a bird.", the stranger said.

You huffed.

"You don't sound like one."

Now he was the one who let out an amused sound. But he sounded like he restrained himself.

"You're right. I'm more of a monkey."

You frowned.

"What's that?"

"A monkey?"

"Yes. I don't know what that is.", you tilted your head and glanced up to the trees again, hoping to spot something that would tell who he was. "I don't know a lot."

And indeed, you could catch a glimpse at a pair of quite large, pale feet dangling in the air. They weren't dressed in anything, just two straps of leather were wrapped around them to hold the loosely fitting pants in place.

But despite them not being protected by anything at all, the soles seemed untouched by the rough conditions of this nordic land.

Only the sight was enough to make you frown in confusion.

"Aren't you freezing?", you asked, eyes still glued to the feet.

His toes moved, one by one.

"I don't feel the cold.", he said and let his legs dangle back and forth.

"Do you have thick skin? Are you warm all the time?"

"No."

"But... if you're not cold nor warm, what are you feeling?"

He hummed as if he had to think about his answer first before letting out a sour sound.

"Let's just say I'm not good at feeling... anything.", he laughed but it seemed awfully forced, while the hint of a deep seated disgust was hidden in it.

Sourly, you pulled a face.

"I'm jealous of you.", you said and turned your gaze back to the sky. "I wish I would be this way."

"You don't.", he hissed.

"I do. Because I'm feeling everything. I'm suffering. Even the touch of a feather could kill me."

"Nothing would be able to kill me."

"Your life must be so exciting."

"Yours must be satisfying."

You frowned. Again, your head turned to look up.

He had pulled his legs up and disappeared completely between the branches and thick coat of green needles.

"I'm miserable.", you said and had to smile in disbelief. "Why would you want a body like mine?"

You couldn't see, but safely hidden between the green, he shrugged. His head fell against the thick tree trunk and a sigh escaped his lips.

"Because my body is worse.", he finally said.

Now, you had to laugh. It was such a forceful laugh that it made your lungs ache. Immediately, a cough interrupted you. It made you shake so violently that you bit your lips by accident.

A thin trail of blood ran over your chin. The taste if iron spread inside your mouth.

Forcing yourself to calm down, you wiped it with the back of your hand.

"I could die any moment.", you said, your eyes glued to the thick red that now stuck to your skin. "Everything could kill me. Sadness, the wind, the touch of another person, my own happiness. Everything. I can't feel the touch of flowers without being in pain. I can't walk without my legs feeling like stone."

With his eyes glancing through a gap in the trees crown, he looked at the calm surface of the lake. The bright blue made him wonder how the touch of the water would feel like.

Glass?

Ice?

Maybe snow?

At the thought, he let out an amused huff again.

He didn't know how any of those things felt like.

So why was he wondering about the water of a lake now?

"Is it that bad to be in pain?", he asked, tilting his head so he could spot you in the furthest corner of his field of vision.

"Hm? Why would you ask something like that?", you frowned. "Of course it is."

"Huh. Was it a stupid question?"

"I think so? But... maybe not? You said your not good at feeling anything. And I'm not good at feeling something else but pain. So, maybe we need to ask someone who isn't us. Maybe they could answer."

He hummed in agreement. His leg slid down the branch to dangle in the air again.

As you noticed, your eyes wandered back. This time, you could see the leg of his pants and the rest of the leather straps that were warped around them. They looked tight, so tight that his legs should be numb and the blood flow interrupted.

But he seemed fine.

A white tunic also dangled around his hips, paired with a leather belt.

"Do you think they would understand?", he asked, sounding so bitter yet amused.

The tone of his voice made it seem as if he had nothing but mockery left for this world and its creatures.

For a moment your eyes followed the movements of his dangling feet, watching them slide left and right through the air.

Every now and then he moved his toes, one by one, as if he wasn't sure if they were still there and had to make sure it was a misconception.

"My mother doesn't.", it slipped off your tongue without thinking.

His movements froze abruptly.

Clenching his hands into fists, he had to restrain himself from bursting into rage. His breath hitched and a hissing sound escaped him.

"Mother...", he growled. "I hate you..."

"Why?"

"That's none of your business...", with a grim expression, he got up, balancing with both feet on the branch and turned his back on you.

But before leaving, he threw a glance to you again.

"You're bitter.", he said in a satisfied way. "I like that."

Frowning, you turned to your side, but still couldn't see him fully.

"Because you're too?", you asked, curious about his opinion.

Again, he hummed.

"We're the same. Complete different, but the same. I hope the world will always make you suffer. It makes me feel understood."

"That's cruel."

"The truth is always cruel. Don't you think?"

For a moment, you thought.

"I hope it will be less cruel one day.", you said.

"It won't be.", he chuckled bitterly.

"How do you know?"

"I've lived long enough to know that there will be no change for the better."

"But an end."

"No.", he pulled a face, suddenly feeling a wave of jealousy wash over him. "Not for me."