Lathir, also comfortable with the overly-talkative, narcissistic axe keeping first, last, and all watches, lays down to rest. He dreams that he is a mighty lion who has found itself in a wooded area. Smelling the stench of a giant-kin oaf, he stalks his prey through the wood. He launches himself at the terrified ogre, crushing its ugly mug with his mighty maw.
In the morning, Lathir wakes, feeling refreshed and in good spirits. He walks away from the campsite some and removes his hat, placing it gently upon the ground as he faces northward. Taking his halfspear in hand, he moves in a slow dance-like pattern that seem something of ritual and something of kata, before placing it, too, upon the ground, facing the head toward the East.
Lathir then kneels in a servile warrior position, facing north. He stays in this position for some time communing with nature. Once this is complete, he stands, retrieves his spear and his hat, placing the hat back upon his head. The lean muscular image of the young druid is replaced with a slightly softer less imposing visage.