Sleepy Fox Hollow such sweet nothing

Near the southern tip of the hollow, Surma has taken a spot where the stone of mountain comes together between the spire and mountain. The moon hangs high in the sky, illuminating his little clearing enough to see the remnants of a fox, nearly picked clean to the bone, and a few torn apart and chewed on in boredom. The burning in his chest has long died down since his last encountered and his days since have been filled with solitude, save for his current silenced companion.
 
An overhang from the spire covers a portion of his little nook and with the moon and stars shining bright upon him, he tucks himself away. Surma rests in only a half-sleep; his ears standing erect upon his head and his breathing falls even, able to detect the slightest disturbance on the wind. He cannot remember the last peaceful night of sleep and it is only nights like these in his slumbering stupor that he can avoid the nightmare that haunts him from one day to the next.