Finn

It’s so dark here. Finn thought over and over, trying to trace his steps from where he had come from. He couldn’t remember anything. Not where he came from, or where he was going. It didn’t seem as though he was going much of anywhere since his whole life so far, that he could remember, was lived in darkness. Of course, that had only been a few minutes, really. And he soon found his way out of the dark, tangled undergrowth that had been holding him prisoner. He was greeted with a thin stream of moonlight by the time his last paw was untangled, and somehow he found comfort in that. Probably because I can finally see something.

He walked slowly, his head hung low, ears pricked back. He had no clue where he was going, but he knew he had to move somewhere if he ever hoped to find answers. There was something he had heard of before - memory loss… amnesia. But how?

He sat down, realizing he was tired. Perhaps an injury. That can cause it, right? He looked down at himself. Aside from his fur being messy and covered in forest debris, nothing appeared wrong. Aside, of course, from that troubling memory loss. He knew he had to have been from somewhere. He had to have been someone. But who am I?