![](https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/images/maxx/glumcloud_uncert.png)
As a rule, Glumcloud was not given to panic. Emotions, on him, were a muted tone. Ones such as excitement or fear boiled the blood and his was lightly frosted with ice to warm that much. So the sight of a massive bulky creature, covered in fur and wielding piercing red eyes... He'd nodded faintly. It seemed about right for something that might exist in the swamp. And, as he had seen it, well, it did exist. That didn't mean he knew what it was or that he thought he should follow or befriend it. The steps he would have to take, the smiles he would have to make, the quickness he couldn't fake... He shook his head; no, he would let it be as it let him be.
Still, the image stayed with him the rest of the night. At each shadow, each sound, he wondered if it around. He shivered a little, the swamp was turning colder with the leaves dropping down...
He wakes in a sea of red and every muscle in his body tenses. The tentacles of the jellyfish rake over his back and up his cheeks but there is no pain. It's a dream, he knows, because in any other world this would hurt. Instead, there is a mild warmth and a gentleness like an affectionate caress that he instinctively tries to press closer to. All around him, red jellies bob and rise and float. It's the closest he's ever seen to the odd red object that sometimes floats about his dreams. And he doesn't like it, not quite, because it's missing the ragtag group that is usually holding on to its tail. For all its beauty, it is hollow and he rises from his spot with a hollow throb between his ribs.
The feeling, homesickness, has haunted him since birth though he has no idea where or why or even when this home might be. He isn't a wistful sort and so he has always just assumed that was a feeling kin had. A motivation to move forward, he supposed, instead of sitting stuck in the mud. It would have been easier, sometimes, to stay idle and do nothing. And he did, at times, indulge in that listless melancholy by sprawling out on his side. Others may have derided him, scorned him, mocked him, but he had no shame in his feelings. He might have been different with his mood never cresting higher than an anthill but he was still kind.
He puffs out an amused breath, mouth turning up. Here he is in dreams and he stands here thinking. He chuckles wryly at himself and walks forward. He knows the way, somehow. This trodden path with a log over running water and the sticks that fit neatly together to make his home. Usually, he finds it empty but in this dream...
Apparently, he is host to a party. Somewhere inside he knows these are not his friends but their spirits taking familiars form. It's enough and it's always welcome. He trudges upward to his house of sticks and peers inside. Often, he finds a rabbit or pig inside. The owl is usually perched atop. It's the jerboas and striped cat that tend to be running wild. The younger jerboa anyway. Usually the fluffball is climbing trees but not this time.
Glumcloud looks at the golden furry minibear. It has bits of honey stuck in its fur but it doesn't seem to mind. It rocks upwards and lumbers, sweet drunk, towards him. He kneels down to meet it and--he doesn't remember the last time he cried, he isn't given to tears. But as he feels the fluff greet him, curl up next to him, rivers down his cheeks. This is apart of home. This fluff and these sticks. The animals. He should enjoy it now because it won't last when he wakes.
The minibear rumbles a waking call and Glumcloud is bewildered but pleased to find it has seemingly followed him to the swamp. He smiles and knows that it's time for honey. Maybe this is home, too.
Obtainment: Buddy Boy Minibear