Cydro smelled a woman next to him. Recoiling as he fought his hunger. A hunger he didnâ€™t understand right now. What had happened. â€œFire...there was fire...a loud boom. Iâ€™m sorry....I canâ€™t...remember. I think I was heading home. Then when I got hurt I was heading to get help. I just...canâ€™t...remember.â€ He said. He weakly moved his hand and touched the fabric of her skirt that she had tied around the back of his head to cover his blind eyes. Letting out a sigh of relief and fought to stay conscious. He felt his head in her lap. His eyes starting to close. â€œIt hurts...â€ He said in a rush of almost silent air. He didnâ€™t have lungs that worked....truly worked. He heard her talking on the phone. Heard her talking to someone about help lifting him and taking him to some shop. Suddenly he was lifted and cried out in pain as his burns were touched. He was place in something with fabric seats. Laid across the back seat before the car began moving. His eyes slid closed again and he began to slip into sleep. When he woke they had placed him on a table. He weakly tried to move off of it. Almost falling off but managed to grab the edges. Biting his lower lip then forced himself to relax back on the long table. His legs still hung over the edge as he was fairly tall. He groaned as he was tired. â€œHello?â€ He called out. Listening and heard rummaging sounds. â€œHello?â€ He called out again. Groaning as the burns stung with each movement that he made.<span style="font-style: italic">Cydro</span>The name bounced around in his head over and over again. Was that him? Was his name Cydro?