Bramblepoint nostalgia in reverse

Re-post!

Panther left the light of the fireflies again, drunk with the sensation that only discovery could ever given him. Though the Glen had been decimated, the bugs had remained, and it was good to know that some things hadn't changed despite disaster. The sable wraith swayed from side to side, humming some wordless tune and traveling blindly through the dawn as the breath of a recovering forest kept him wakeful well past the point of fatigue. He couldn't remember sleeping, but presumed it would come upon him soon enough; however, not before hunger would goad him into a brief hunt.

A saying Panther had always hated ("the early bird catches the worm") came into his head as he tracked a rabbit along the deer trails of Bramblepoint. The sun had barely risen, and he had yet to show any success in his endeavor, leading him to wonder if the saying was even true. He usually avoided activity at this ungodly hour— or perhaps the most godly hour, with the rising sun and all— but nothing seemed to be fairly easy target anymore. No matter the time of day. Not since the sweep of the locusts.