He had been drifting off, just barely. Even for his, what was it now….the number of times he must have gone camping now should have numbered above fifteen. He never wanted to leave the embrace of the open air, the blanket that was the collective stars…..but yet he knew that staying in his tent was a better idea. Groggily, he clawed his way into the fabric prison, and made sure to seal the exit. A zipper with sealant was much better off than one of those flap door-devices….it kept all the little bugs out. Not that he minded them too much, but if they got in this enclosed space it was rather difficult for them to escape. That’d have been tragic, only because he might have killed such a small creature without meaning to.
Anyhow, that thought was out of his head for the time being, seeing as how he was alone in this tent. Well, as alone as he could be….he never felt lonely, at least.
There wasn’t any warning. No rumble, little sound. He couldn’t have prepared himself for this.
Well, that was a lie. He could have, but he didn’t have the foresight to check the surroundings for signs. The damp soil, some spots of crumbling earth. Someone like Jagi wasn’t trained to be attentive enough for that. The earth had not forsaken him here, no; he just didn’t listen to it well enough, he almost challenged the land itself unwittingly.
That was his literal downfall. Upon awaking, he had no idea where he was…..except buried. The pressure was unmistakable. He had no way out and didn’t even know how he got in. At the very least….he was breathing, at this exact moment. So he didn’t have to worry about dying by suffocation….but this was very odd. He smelled something out of place; not the earth that was very prevalent, but something else. A….faint scent that abraded his olfactory senses and then simply vanished.