The girl, unable to pull that want from herself, stays in one spot as they touch. The want she is thinking about is the want to pull away.
But, she can't seem to find it. There is no reason to abandon such a boy on a rocky shore in a place he might not be familiar with. It was simply just...not fair.

The world wasn't fair. But, that was just how it went. How it works. How it will always work. Here, anyway.

She is put into a dream-like state. A memory of his maybe? He is there, and she is seeing it in his eyes, though still in her own mind. A silver mother cradles him. She is bound by the color of the moon, and as she looks upon her childe in great adore and care. The boy, he wants to move. Restless. But, he is bound by her orders. Staying. The dawn, it comes in a bright flash of light.

Clear tears steam down the face of the moon mare, and she is praising. Praising something.... the light. It touches the childe and he can see it all. Through the eyes of something else, somewhere out there, he can see himself. Putting images into the minds of others...and it was gone. The childe soon after fell asleep in a curl of body and newborn touch; the mother soon after hears the footsteps of a man. He stands tall, and quite upset.

When the boy wakes, Spice almost pulls away. This must be his memory of the time he received his necklace. He slips the rough doll over his head in a comfortable position.

Scene shifting, he was in a cave with a frantic mom. She was scared for him. For what they would do. The others, they are coming for him and right now, multiple occupants of a group pushes their way into the space where him and his mother hide. They yell to him, calling a name. "Cerin!" Spice finds this is not the mother's name. It is his, the boy's.

Ocean boy's name is Cerin. Cerin is beautiful, she decides in her own mind for a nano second. They prod him away, sticks and pointy things shoving him away, away, away. To the edge of their land he goes before running as fast and hard as ever before, if there had ever been an ever before.

The scarecrow still hangs around his neck. Scarecrow Spice likes that name better than doll. When Cerin pulls away, she stares at him intently. Wondering if that was really him in his little dream-thingy. "Cerin. I can help you." She whispers.

{@[Cerin] "I can help you" is all I've got as of now for words. So so so sorry for the delay. And, I love how he is like the Giver. :D}