Crimson leaves spiralled to the floor, brushing past him. He was lost in the woods, and the constantly changing surface was not helping. Signing, he sat down for a rest. Maybe he'd never see them again? Maybe he could die here? Maybe there was no exit, and he was just stuck in a endless loop of autumn nights. He just wanted to know the ones he cared about were okay, but he may never see them again. He began to walk again, it was at least worth a try. People cared about him and he knew it, they'd want him to be safe. And staying here was the opposite.

visible confusion

sounds like a bad ack there