Bearclaw Valley at your back door yelling 'cause I wanna come in

The world was not real.

It spun around in painted colors of spring. Time between one valley to the next was lost in this spinning blur. He felt like a compass that could not find its direction, an anomaly in the way that he walked the earth.

Somehow it felt like he was only finally seeing again when the world curved up around him. Had he somehow gone back to the vale in the mountains? No, this was a new one. It was a claw that curled up and threatened to grasp him if he stepped foot within.

Scents clustered though and told him others were already within its grasp.

Like the dog he was, in some ways, he stood at their door and wondered if he could be let in.