RANDOM STUFF THAT IM POSTING

Owen looked at the "world" around them. The clocks ticks gave them a weird sense of comfort that would normally annoy them. They couldn't hear the ticking unless they really focused on it. It would have been odd to anyone from their home. There were clocks everywhere. On houses, on the streets, their new friend even had a clock on his hat. He sat next to them, the two looking out at his world, Owen asking questions about each new thing they saw. The steampunk boy beside them didn't mind answering and was very eager to talk about his land. The two started to walk around town. The steampunk boy followed behind rambling about how much he loves his home. But then Owen tripped. They scrabbed their knee pretty bad. Nothing broken, but bad enough that they saw blood.

"Gosh, Owen, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Their voice betrayed them. Their steampunk friend got down next to them and cared for their wounds. They said nothing more as the boy took care of their wound.

"You have to be more careful, pal!"

He pulled them into his arms. He was hugging them. 

They were so cold.

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The walk to the women's home was peaceful. There were flowers everywhere. Owen could only point out a few they recognized by name. Her world was peaceful. It had a warm glow to it. They loved how they looked in the warm glow of the sun that was now setting. They loved how everything was now a tinted orange.

Once the two reached her house, she opened the door for them. She was very welcoming and motherly, it was refreshing. She took off their thin cloak and hung it up somewhere. Their outfit, despite being primarily a soot black, also had an orange tint to it. 

Pulling out a chair, she walked them to it and headed towards the kitchen. 

"Stay there, I'll make us some tea."

It took almost no time at all for the tea to be ready. They took their time drinking it, they wished they could feel the comforting warmth it normally brought them. She got up once more and started to get ingredients out. They tilted their head at her.

"I'm just making bread, dear. You haven't eaten in awhile, hm?"

They wished they could smell the fresh bread now put in front of them. It looked so fluffy, it looked soft. They could imagine how it tasted when they put it in their mouth. Warm, soft, fluffy, and a bit hard to rip off. That was their favorite kind of bread. 

The cottagecore like women smiled at them. It was a warm feeling.

The emptiness in their stomach reminded them to eat.

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"That's what I like about stars. No matter what, they're your friends." 

He was like a father to Owen. Giving them advice, helping them learn the guitar, helping them get outfits that made them feel happy. Their father figure liked the stars. It made sense, he was surrounded by purple lights and loud people all day. Their father figure might have claimed to be an extrovert, but even that gets draining for him. Owen didn't judge, they themselves considered themself to be an introvert, but even then they liked meeting new people.

"That one is the Little Dipper. It's pretty common, but it's still cool to find."

Owen nodded their head. They knew they didn't need to say much. They were thankful that their father figure wouldn't push them to talk all the time. The two never needed to talk, being in each others presence was enough.