Sleepy Fox Hollow If you rearrange the letters of Peru, you could spell Europe

dated around the 8th -- for @Padma <3

After talking with the leader of Diaspora, Timberlake traveled down into the valley that reminded him so much of home. He'd make his way up the mountains eventually, but for now, he wanted to rest a bit. He was tired, physically speaking, and mentally a little despondent from the lack of success in his mission after Whitebark Stream. This seemed like the perfect place to take a break.

He padded among the bare, frost-tipped trees, sniffing around for any game that made their burrows here. The scent of foxes was heavy; he supposed any rabbits or voles might well be picked over by the local vulpine residents. Perhaps a stray mountain goat was to be found? They were plentiful in Round Valley, anyway.

But his search proved fruitless, and all the walking around tired him out. With a sigh, Timberlake settled in the hollow at the base of one of the towering trees, nestled in the undergrowth. He placed his nose on his paws and his tail over his muzzle, his copper eyes glittering in the early spring sun. The lids began to droop, slowly. . .

Before long, he was snoring.