The morning was mostly cloudy and the sun wasn't even seen, the sky a dull, drab monotone grey. Hemingway glimpsed forlornly up at the sky knowing that there was, he had little doubt, a very good chance of rain. It was cooler today, giving Hem the impression that fall might come earlier this year. He didn't know for sure — mother nature was a fickle mistress, untamed that followed her own agenda — all he could do was take his knowledge and the weather patterns and form predictions out of them. Perhaps, he considered with a wiry smile, he was simply tired and it was only cooler today because it was overcast and rain that was to likely come was the coolant. The Soothsayer did not allow himself long stretches of sleep for the fear of slumber pulling into the deep, cognitive cycles of REM sleep. The deepest cycle in which he usually got his 'visions' something that had scared him as a child that had became something revered within Bugloss Bend when he had finally broken out of his shell and told an adult about the once nightmares. It was funny how an explanation, a glossy , enigmatic words such as 'special' and 'visions' could twist something from being terrifying to be glorious.
Hemingway had long since ceased being frightened by the 'visions'. His reservation for allowing himself to enter that deep cycle of sleep was because he had yet to find a pack to call home and he did not want to have to deal with being that vulnerable on his lonesome. Instead, he settled for small naps a couple times a day reminiscent of a child. The overcast day, however, was not helping with trying to keep busy and refrain from being so tired that a deep sleep was unavoidable. To keep himself awake and distracted Hemingway kept moving. He had paused in his travels only to fill his stomach with a rabbit he had caught shortly after first waking from another cat nap before he kept moving.
Eventually, he stopped when he came to the bank of a lake, generally not bothered and uninterested in the foul that inhabited the territory, pausing at the bank, lowering his head to lap at the cool, crisp water the lake provided.