Grouse Thicket Where the streets have no name

He followed the path of promise - what that meant was a mystery to the man, but he found himself here, farther West than he had ever travelled, and still looking. The tangle of vegetation - sparse, still, in terms of nutrients, no surprise for the season - was of particular comfort to him. He enjoyed the way the roots and branches formed a near-perfect mask of his earthy fur - a prime location to safely sleep, and he drifted to the start of pleasant dreams.

The snapping of undergrowth roused him, but Wirt - having been lost to his thoughts - didn't move quick enough. He suddenly found himself knocked beneath a giant furry creature, and he wheezed and gasped for the breath she knocked so skillfully from his lungs. A flurry of wings lit the air around them - hidden grouse, now taking flight in an easy effort to escape the attack that wasn't meant for them. A hacking replaced their noise - Wirt's lungs catching for air while he struggled to make sense of who had landed on top of him.