The Sanity Coma III: The Shadowless Plains

Rain was falling steadily upon the moors, large puddles forming in the springy grass. A pawstep sent water splashing across the grass as Falconfang tried to peer out into the gloom of the night. However, the night was unyielding, and besides, there wasn't much to see past the rain. The brown-furred deputy sighed and walked another few pawsteps, knowing that he should return to the dens, where he could at least take shelter from the rain and not run the risk of an illness. However, he kept walking forward, as if returning to camp wasn't an option. Maybe the rain was keeping him distracted, but he didn't notice a fog starting to rise until it had almost completely encompassed the moors. Eyes wide with surprise, he continued to move forward, the fog obscuring his vision, until a sound started to rise above the rain. It was the sound of battle, of the cries of defeat and pain. He didn't know who was battling, but he knew that it couldn't be good, so he rushed forward and out of the fog.