Firefly Glen Yet feet that wandering have gone

And across the valley floor he went.  Even if something happened in that last thread, he wanted to wander a bit before doing anything about it.  So here he was.  He had entirely boxed up the events at the sea and buried them in some dark corner of his mind that he hoped to never dig up.  His shield was forgetting, so that he didn't remember he was out on his own, so that he didn't remember that so many out there were demons.  No, now the world was fine, wasn't it?

The forest that he walked through was dense, and it was still plenty wintry enough for the fireflies that it was named for to not be present.  Instead it was just a gloomy jungle.  Matched his mood pretty well.  It was probably approaching noon at this point, not that it was easy to tell.  There were a few patchy bits of light that filtered in from the canopy, but the clouds were an additional layer between him and the sun.  His previous luck had hit a low, and the youth was hungry, so much of his wandering was spent with his nose down, seeking some sign of something edible -- he hoped for something that wouldn't be much effort, if only so the failure rate would make any expenditure of energy worth it.  He still wasn't great at hunting.