Aeolus was sick of this.
He had been walking for ages, cursing his biometal's lacking of the ability to fly for longer.
He knew he had to save the energy of his biometal for emergencies, so he remained in reploid form. He began to wonder why he was out here, as he had been so long that, even the great mind of Aeolus had forgotten.
He found a good place in the middle of the forest which looked isolated. "I doubt I would be found here," he thought to himself.
He dropped down, exhausted. He carelessly dropped his backpack on the ground, and began unfolding the century-old tent he had contained in it. If anyone had seen him now, they'd know he was desperate for using this ancient junk.
He lay down inside the tent, trying and failing to get to sleep, as his mind was deep in thought, trying to remember why he was here.
OOC: You may enter this area, attack me, etc etc.