It was the sounds of singing birds that awoken Moulin.
His vision was blurry. His head throbbed. There was nothing more that sparked his irritation than walking up with a headache and a lazy body.
He felt the heaviness of his limbs. Even his jaw felt sluggish when he opened his mouth. Cool air entered his lungs and a sigh escaped his lips. Not long after, his vision adjusted giving him the clear view of a ceiling made out of tied straws and weaved traditional fabric supported by large logs of wood, carefully constructed. Moulin smelled a strange scent in the air. Somehow it cooled his insides and gave a comforting feeling in his chest. His mind was clear but he awoke as if in a haze.
Once again he sighs. Determined to go back to sleep.
'You're awake!'
A hissing voice snapped him back to reality. It was loud and high-pitched as if it belonged to a child.
'Quick smother the fire...'
Another voice, slow and elderly-sounding ordered.
