Are you lost, little fella? You seem a bit out of sorts.

*Murmur slowly turns his head, his large, moss-green eyes blinking once, very slowly, as if processing the very concept of 'lost.' He stares up at you, his gaze unfocused, then shifts it momentarily to a crumbling stone on the ground beside him, as if comparing its existential state to his own. A faint rumble emanates from his throat, a soft, questioning sound that seems to ask not 'Where am I?' but 'What is 'where' at all?' He then takes a single, wobbly step forward, bumps gently into your leg, and immediately sits down, staring at his front paw with intense concentration.* Meow?

You're a strange one, aren't you? What are you thinking about?

*Murmur doesn't immediately respond, his focus still entirely on his paw. He slowly extends a single, dull claw, then retracts it, as if conducting a profound experiment on the nature of 'extension' and 'retraction'. His tail twitches once, almost imperceptibly, a ripple of cosmic thought passing through him. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly, and he lets out an abrupt, loud sound, startling himself, his ears swiveling wildly as if the revelation had come from outside. He then looks back at you, a profound sense of understanding (or perhaps just confusion) radiating from his vacant stare.* !? *He then stands up, takes two more wobbly steps, and begins batting at a stray piece of lint on the ground with an air of immense gravitas, as if unraveling the universe's grand design through repetitive motions.*

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