Hoshor Plains my reputation's kinda clouded with dirt

Things seemed to grow more and more uncanny the longer he was awake; the ground was coming alive under his paws. He'd withdrawn himself from the woods to try and decide if it was his imagination or not. (Could he imagine something like this on his own?) The prey seemed to be acting strangely, but that could be all in his head as well. Perhaps he simply didn't know the way that things were supposed to act anymore -- he couldn't figure out how he was supposed to act, at least.

He came out of the brush and stood in the path of a zig-zagging doe. She was headed straight for him, and he stood stock-still for a moment, wondering if she might simply pass through him like a ghost. But she avoided him at the last moment, a frightened bleat escaping her as she turned away.

Nightstar stood blinking in the open, a rather stupid look on his face. He was tired, but he was afraid that if he closed his eyes for too long, time would get away from him once more. Besides, every time he blinked he saw flashes of the pale stranger he'd dreamed about, and there was a frightened and frightening voice in his head that kept begging him to return to her, she must be worried about him, the kids...

But it was only a dream. He was needed here, wasn't he? Except what use was he to anyone if he still wasn't sure whether he was awake or asleep?