Noah woke up from a restless, nightmare-filled sleep. He had no idea where these nightmares came from; they were too vague to be connected to any real events or fears he could distinguish in his waking hours. In this particular one there was always a storm raging, which was almost funny, because he hadn’t seen a proper storm in Finland yet, and he’d lived there for years and years now. The one thing he knew about the dreams was they always appeared when changes were happening around his usually stable life on the Jarvela farm.
He out of bed, stretching slowly, and scratched his stomach absently, noting the lack of morning wood while the need to take a leak was still there. Stumbling over some socks, he made his way to the bathroom he shared with Anton, the resident teenaged fox. Luckily A
