[b]Acclimate (v) - to adjust to a new environment [/b]
Him, himself, he, I, we, they, us, them, it's unimportant.  Nothing was remembered; the mind wiped clean. Life, death, sanity, nothing seemed important. Nothing retained, nothing remained, leaving a feral beast inside the husk of a once sentient being. Once he, it, us, they tried to remember, but it was an effort worthy of Sisyphus. The only emotions accessible were primal, lupine things. It was all of little importance; even if memories returned, nothing was left.
His, its, our, their everything was annihilated.  He, I, we, they survived; if that's what it was. The deplorable, despicable thoughts in his, its, our, their mind centered on survival. Nothing, nothing, nothing was all he, it, we, they felt. He, it, us, they, weren't human by any standards. Human, was that what he, it, we, they used to be?
----------------------------------------------------------------
He, it, we, they dashed through the trees. It was cold; winter had set in the region. He, it, we, they flitted from shadow to shadow trying to avoid the gazes of the beasts around him, it, we, them. The beasts were dangerous. He, it we, they were scared of the beasts. A message from the depths of his, its, our, their soul told him, it, us, them to fear. It was a message older than the sunrise, and equally hard to ignore.
The fear proved correct when a lynx ran toward him, it, us, them; eyes wide and claws aching to sink into flesh. He, it, we, they responded by lashing out with a travel-battered foot. The lynx failed to dodge and was kicked square in the muzzle. The lynx leapt back to glare at its newest adversary. He, it, we, they stared back just as fiercely. The lynx shot foreword, hoping to draw first blood. It was sorely disappointed when he, it, we, they landed a strong blow to the skull with a jagged rock. Blood flowed as the lynx slumped to the ground. He, it we, they panted for breath. Though the wilds had exposed him, it, us, them to many perils, an attack was always an unwelcome surprise.  At least this one yielded a good meal and pelt.
-------------------------------------------------------------
He, it, we, they had lived in the wilds for a long time, the pecking order was well known to him, it, us, them. If it was larger, stronger, or smarter than you, do not question its authority.  Most animals left him, it, us, them alone. He, it, we, they proved to be a formidable foe. His, its, our, their incredible finesse in battle was nothing to scoff at. His, its, our, their quick, instinctual strikes made a snake feel inferior. He, it, we, they never provoked an attack; the beasts chose to solve the enigmatic being by ending his, its, our, their life. The beasts were as terrified of him, it, us, them as he, it, we, they were of the beasts. That was the law of the wilds.
==========================================================
He, it, we, they didn't understand the being that stood before he, it, we, them. It was a curious thing, resembling him, it, us, them in form. However, the form stood shocked at seeing him, it, us, them. The being said, it's you. Who, who was he, it, us them? The being had cautiously approached; wary of the danger that could easily befall it. The being looked at him, it, us, them with saccharine eyes. The being…the being knew something.
"Verloren, you're alive…"
---------------------------------------------------------
Apparently, he, it, we, they had a name, 'Verloren'. And also, 'Verloren' was a he. His feral side was separate from this 'Verloren'. This Verloren lived a life so different from the beast inside of him that it shocked his inner creature into timid shyness. 'Verloren' lived in a rank, claustrophobic place called a 'city'. It was horrendous. Filthy beings called 'people' filled the gaps called 'streets' in between 'houses'. The Beast was silent until they reached Minnaar's 'home'. He was lead through 'hallways' and 'rooms'. How the Beast longed to be in the wilds! The Beast had no desire to live with these 'people'. The Beast hated being stuck in these wood and stone buildings. It wasn't even the same type of wood and stone found in his wilds, it was unnaturally shaped and put together. It was a mockery of everything the Beast loved. The Beast did not want to live as Verloren.
=======================================================
Minnaar had taken the beast to a place called a 'hospital'. There people called 'doctors' pulled and twisted the Beast, supposedly help him.  The Beast did not take kindly to that and attacked. He was pronounced healthy, but feral. Really, what else should a beast be if not feral? Minnaar seemed extremely sad at that, although the beast couldn't figure out why.
They removed him from the 'waiting' room of the hospital and took him to a 'psych ward'. The Beast did not know what that meant, but at least they weren't pulling on him anymore. They stuffed into a small room with only a small hole called a 'window' and a resting place called a 'cot'. All in all, it was much more comfortable than that stupid city. Quiet, solitary, clean, it was great. Not as great as the wilds, but the Beast preferred this to the fast and deadly world outside.
----------------------------------------------------------------
  The Beast was tired of its existence as Verloren. Though terrifying as they were, the Beast wanted to return to the wilds. The wilds were home; and the Beast wanted to return home. The Beast wanted the smell of fresh pine, earth, the scents of other beasts, even the smell of rotting vegetation was better than the horrible sterile environment they kept him in. It was driving the Beast crazy, these people did not understand that Verloren did not exist any longer. The Beast doubted Verloren even existed in the first place. They did not want to let the Beast free, the wilds were out of his reach or a long time.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"How are you Verloren?" Minnaar asked the Beast. The Beast gave a small smile and nodded. The Beast knew the more it pretended to be Verloren the quicker it could leave, "Can you still not speak?"
"Aahh, ahh, nnghh…" The Beast tried and failed to produce any semblance of actual words. Minnaar looked sadly at the ground.
"At least that proved you can understand us. You can at least do that…" Minnaar looked away and left the room. The Beast did not understand. Was talking really all that important? Body language could tell you more than words, humans made no sense. However, the Beast knew he must learn to speak, even just a few words, to get out of this wretched place.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Me-nah," it was as close as the Beast could get to saying Minnaar at the moment, "Soon, we can leave?" Minnaar looked almost ready to cry with joy.
"Yes Verloren, we'll be leaving soon." Minnaar tried to hug the Beast, who stiffened but returned the hug. Why did humans require physical proof another was there? It made no sense to the Beast, but it didn't feel all that bad.