Notes

Foster entered his room and locked the door behind him. As he undressed, he looked at the small spirit that was already on his way to his small 'nest' on the bedside table to continue sleeping over there. He held his shirt in his hands for a moment, noticing its slightly weird texture. Looking at it more closely, it didn't really seem like normal cotton. For a moment, while holding onto his shirt, Foster was practically stunned by the flood of his own thoughts that entered his mind. If this wasn't cotton, then what was it? It didn't seem like wool either. Then was it some sort of creature that he couldn't even imagine, or some grotesque plant that was growing in fields somewhere nearby?