Golden Glade i wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Figured he should visit and meet the neighbors!

A few hours of hiking and he'd reached the limit of his stamina, although Dingo would never admit to such a feat if any women were within earshot, and he emerged from the trailing edge of the cedarwood to a smaller glade; the earth smelled damp, and the area was dominated by all manner of strange green things. Mostly grasses, but also a few trees that didn't grow within the hideaway that had become home. Their boughs were loosely draped across neighboring trees — drifting tendrils mostly, shimmering beneath the infernal sun. It had been a particularly bright day and Dingo had regretted doing his patrol at all; but as he ducked between some trees, the sun was suddenly absent (the clouds sweeping in with a mighty gust), and he breathed a sigh.