Northstar Vale yeah, i know i never shoulda took you home

the morning is cloaked in a thick veil of fog; the air heavy and soupy as poet stirs awake. poet stretches, finding relief in the action, but is snapped back to reality that he'd just undergone quite a trip to get to this place by the soreness of his paws and muscles. for a brief moment, he'd forgotten.

disorientation had followed then, made worse by the fog. he had intended to travel more, after filling his belly with breakfast but he considers, with a soft frown creasing his lips that perhaps he was best to stay where he was in this unfamiliar territory. to, until the fog burned away, not venture beyond the vale.

poet stretches again, a yawn escaping him as he settles his back against the thick tree trunk he'd slept against, trying to content himself with having a lazy morning.