Lost Creek Hollow i'm out of the game

sweet slumber purrs about him as he tucks tight into the tree's protective embrace. the chewed chamomile already settling heavily into the blood that chugged throughout his vessel as the softest of sighs drifts forth and the hum of his heart relaxes. even the occasional splatter of rain sliding from laden leaves above to sprinkle across his already dampened fur does not appear to set him so on edge. he would love to drift away like this and perhaps see where he might journey to, what magnificence would his mind spin up from the shadows that drifted blearily about. 

but amongst the lulling patter of water being passed from branch to branch until finding the earth's hungry jaws, another sound drags ears forth to cup and swivel. he is not alone. brows furrow with some distaste but sage eyes do not sharpen quite so drastically as they scan the verdant surroundings for the intrusion. for the herbs continue to sing sweet symphonies and offer tight, reassuring caresses as they remind him of peace and calm. how magnificent must it be to be able to summon such a state on command. still, he is not quite so ingenious when under the influence of calm hence why he only indulges himself when utterly alone and not in the middle of investigating something. actually, it was only meant for emergencies but some days were just shit. 

so, narrowing eyes against the haze, he would make no motion to shift from the shivering blades encircling his willowy figure pressed amongst the tree roots as a dark figure strides into view. the look blinking his way seems to shift between vigilance and utter laziness as he studies the drifting shadow. such precise, brazen steps...the king of his own little world. a snort breaks the soothing silence as he glares over until those muted, pastoral eyes will surely shift to himself upon realising that his little kingdom indeed held its own pests.