Fox's Glade mix two parts jack with two bloodshot eyes

Again his dreams haunt him, lingering like a foul aftertaste even as bleary eyes flutter open to the wintry air and the drowsiness begins to flee. The air nips at his skin with increasing insistence as he rouses, rolling over with a low groan deep in his chest. He blinks several times, finally drawing the pale landscape into focus. Immediately his breath hitches, throat tightening — this isn't home — but he quickly remembers the restlessness of the night, his half-conscious journey past the borders.
He rolls over, stiff limbs protesting the activity every step of the way, and greets the frosty morning with an eye-watering yawn. He stretches his legs out toward the sky, extending each limb fully save the troublesome left rear. It's a satisfying stretch, though it only serves to further convince him that he's not ready to face the day yet. So he rolls over again, flopping onto the side opposite the one he'd slept on with a second yawn. Five more minutes... he silently assures no one in particular, knowing full well he's not on a schedule and not obligated to a damn thing today — but that's kind of a lonely feeling when he thinks about it. Suddenly he wonders what @Midar is doing right now.