Morning twenty-four came with the first bird chirps for Eren. Nowadays he didn't even care if the sunlight came down or not.
He was already inside a big giant ass forest and seeing and depending on sunlight was a nightmare. So he gave up on that path and relied on birds and bugs, which he was fortunate neither of them came too close to his sleeping area of the giant tree- or it's main body to be exact.
Eren carved a new scratch mark into the bark with his sharpest stone hooked with his weird failure rope and blew the dust off from the thick branch. He was living in a forest with almost zero hygiene, but having all this dust and filth in the one place where he slept and kept his valuables was starting to drive him insane.
Every instinct for order and cleanliness that the modern world had drilled into him made him absolutely loathe this mess. I'm a 25-year-old man from the city, not a caveman.
