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All was quiet in the forest night: the rustling pines, the sweet birdsong, the stream murmuring deep in the valley. Only the night wind occasionally stirred the hem of Rex's clothes.
A fresh fragrance kept drifting toward him. The starlight was hazy, the distant mountains dark, the trees black.
Cold winds blew in gusts, and the temperature varied greatly between day and night. Rex took out a bottle of liquor and sipped it. The sharp, burning sensation in his mouth left him feeling rather comfortable.
In the dreamy night, every tree wore a gauzy skirt, singing softly and dancing gracefully, long sleeves brushing lightly through the air.
Before he knew it, a day had slowly passed. The scenery in Rex's sight had changed little. Mountains still followed mountains, and trees stood one after another.
It was an expanse of primeval forest, where wild beasts roamed freely, especially at night.
In the stillness of the late night, the mournful cries of all manner of beasts kept reaching Rex's ears.
Standing on a tree trunk, Rex took out a bear hide blanket and draped it over himself. He decided to rest right there in the tree.
The Arathi Highlands a thousand years ago were far more dangerous than they would be a thousand years later.
Being high up in a towering tree only reduced the danger somewhat. Eliminating every threat was simply impossible.
During the day, all sorts of beasts roamed about, many of which Rex could not even name.
Rex lay on the broad tree trunk. He had trimmed it with a blade, flattening its rounded surface just enough for him to lie on.
Rex narrowed his eyes and carefully examined a particular spot on his body.
It was his chest, where his heart lay. Throughout