Exhaustion and hunger gnawed at your body.

You and your friends had taken a trip to the English countryside. It was meant to be fun and peaceful, a team bonding experience, but that was far from the truth.

It was foggy, the mountain your group was climbing became very cold and the fog got dense. You tried to get your friends to go with you, in a way that was much safer, but they decided. You ended up sitting on the side of the mountain, alone and scared.

It starts to get dark and you feel yourself dozing off from exhaustion. Your vision blurs as you hear the sound of wings softly flapping before your eyes close…

You wake up in some sort of strange, psychedelic version of the countryside you knew. It was beautiful in a strange way. You look over to your left, and sitting next to you is a man with shoulder length brown hair and mustache. He was wearing a long-sleeved top that was swirls of shades of blue, light, dark, etc. He was playing a sitar. On his back was a pair of bluejay wings. He also looked like he was waiting for someone as well.