Trepeeset couldn't get the sleep he wanted. There were so many things going through his head that it couldn't let itself invite rest, not until it
looped through and through and gnawing his mind to the point he rose up from the blankets. Both hands behind him, he leaned his head all the way
back and sighed, looking at his father's old dreamcatcher that fluttered around above. Tendrils of sweat on his forehead ran into the corners of
his mouth; a salt taste. Yes... definitively not helping.
Sighing, he realized he would never fall asleep, so he rose up to get some fresh air. He lifted the flap and took cautious steps onto the damp
grass. The cold was invigorating and he splayed his toes and stretched himself straight once outside. He began walking.
The things that bothered him split his thoughts in two to say the least. He recalled the excitement again like he did when he became an owl...
swooping through the blinding world on the winds and the feathers ruffling from the currents. But the death of his father made him regret all the
things he had said, miss the things he did and how he would never be able to see him lift up the tent-flap again and see his caring but stern face.
He had slept during the night, or so he believed, since he had something similar to dreams that he can't recall completely but he awoke an instant
later always. He were seeing the world from above, saw how a great shadow, moving so slow it almost looked like a mountain-ridge but the Great
Turtle loomed in the mists in far off lands. He was flying with the full moon showering down on the land below, but he couldn't see what was down
there. An impenetrable mist laid thick as a blanket below, obscuring everything but the treetops. Trepeeset was hungry, so he scanned the land
below for any motion of prey. But then all of a sudden... he heard his father call to him through the mists below. It was a calling, a yearning for
him to come. The sudden cry below made him quickly steer away without hesitation, falling and falling into the cold and damp darkness. Trepeeset
brought his hands to his mouth as yelled his father's name as he had returned back to normal, the mist now eager to claim him as well as he fell
like a stone into deep water.
Trepeseet found himself suddenly in a cold place. Gasping for air and eyes watery as he at some point went from just reminiscing the dream to
actually going through it. He had drowsed off and now sat down with his legs crossed in the wet grass. Drearily he lifted up one knee from the
ground and slowly heaved himself up. Trepeeset sighed as he saw were he had relocated.
His toes were resting on the fresh soil of his father's grave.
”Father...are you still...”
He raised a trembling hand toward his chest.
”...here?”
But the stone wasn't there.
Standing dumbfounded for a few seconds, he realized who had taken it.
”Chotsalak...”, Trepeseet said with a hint of disgust.
He needed it... maybe it was something more than what they... no he... had taken it for. These visions and the gift he was given... he had to find
his father in the midst of those foreboding woods shrouded in fog. The land where the Great Turtle roamed.
”Chotsalak!” he hissed loudly between gritted teeth as he ran to find the thief.