Sleep was never easy for the Wolf, he always found himself restlessly tossing and turning during the night, and waking to the sunrise. The negative energies through the forest made him on edge. The evenings brought danger, and the days brought sadness. The trees had been speaking in hushed rustles, worry shaking the dead leaves right off their frail branches.
Sitting up in his cave, he removed the blanket from around his body and crawled out of the cave, his eyes fixated on the land in front of him. The division of the land was becoming more and more noticeable as the minutes ticked by in Xander's head. What used to be lush, green forestry, was now a dull brown; everything was limp, dried up.
Xander took a deep breath as the sun rose over the forest, painting the trees with golden light, and revealing all imperfections. A grimace trickled down Xander's face, as his eyes darted this way, then that. His mind wanders to Lena, wondering when she would come back... For time did not move the same in Otherworld as it did in Lena's; Hours in Lena's world could be translated into weeks in Otherworld, so Lena's visits, to Xander, were always very spontaneous and very much welcomed.
Standing, the boy grabs his spear and begins journeying down to the river to wash off. The walk to the river used to be his favorite part of every day, but as the years went on, and the negativity began to override Otherworld, it soon became his least favorite walk. As Xander approached the river, he began his daily routine, which consisted of a nice long soak in the river, and sharpening up his spear.