The first time Goretti had been to his asteroid, he had been incredibly unprepared. It wasn't an unpleasant experience by any means, and it had sparked the curiosity in him. It had calmed all fears he'd had--of what to expect from this place.

He'd come back, this time with a backpack full of supplies.

It wasn't as though he intended to have a long stay, but he knew he was coming to explore.

Exploring meant knowing the proper tools to bring.

In his backpack, he'd brought two bottles of water, some light snacks--duct tape, rope, a pocket knife, a pen and notepad, a, camera, a first aid kit, an empty jar, a ruler, a lighter, a magnifying glass. He'd kept the backpack only mostly full in case he found things he wanted to take home with him.

When he'd arrived, it was in the same location as last time. He jotted this information down in his notepad. Today, he figured, was an exploratory mission. He hadn't any clue just how big his asteroid was and--oh.

Actually, a pedometer would have been a really smart thing to bring.

He paused, realizing it was too late to go back and grab it. His lips pursed in disappointment, but not one to let one mistake bring him down he just nodded his head firmly and told himself to stay focused.

It would be okay if there was no mapping today then--just exploring.

That was easy enough.

Goretti's asteroid was full of neat little things; before he'd just been so entranced with the tall white trees, bloated with glue. Strange, glowing plants. He jotted down notes about all of them, snapping a few pictures when he could.

He had a whole world to catalogue and research--and it was amazing. He dreamed of making some sort of informational book, even if only for himself. Maybe, for the next Goretti--since he couldn't seem to find anything that would help him.

Hopefully, though, the next Goretti wouldn't come around a thousand years from now.

Or, maybe, one day this place would be safe enough to live on again.

Not one for much planning, Goretti's thoughts shifted rapidly between his note-taking. He didn't have any expectations for this trip beyond just getting started on this massive project.

...But then the fog rolled in.

Goretti had been running his finger along a slick stalk of some strange, milky white plant that glowed faintly when he caught a shimmer in the corner of his eye. He turned rapidly, instinct telling him to be on the lookout for danger.

...But there was no danger, at least as far as he could tell.

The sky was clear, but rolling slowly along the ground of the asteroid was a wave of thick, silvery fog. It wasn't entirely unlike the fog on Earth, except it seemed to shimmer. When the moonlight filtered through the ceiling of leaves, Goretti's breath hitched.

The fog captured the light of the moon, trapping it in its silvery sheen. It glimmered like a thousand tiny stars, and Goretti watched, transfixed.

He'd never seen moonlight quite like this, and as he watched, memorized, he could only think that this must certainly be pure moon shine.

Except...

His brows furrowed. Moonshine? Moonshine. Hadn't someone...

His eyes widened with sudden clarity and he remembered a meeting he'd had with a cat--Bob.

The fog was rolling slowly, like a monster in no great hurry, so Goretti reached into his bag and fished around until he pulled out the empty jar. He opened it and used his scarf to make sure it was clean, inside and out, and then hesitantly approached the wall of mist.

Uncertainly, he reached out to touch it; it was cool and parted around his hand, but it seemed strangely drawn. The fog seemed inclined to swirl. Goretti had expected it to be cool, or feel metallic, but it was soft, like silk.

He faltered for only a moment before he carefully tried to scoop some of the fog into a jar and, to his surprise, it filled in the same way a liquid might. Quickly, he screwed the cap back on and held the jar up to examine. The fog swirled, reminding Goretti of a lava lamp.

The silver mist still glistened, pearly white in places, and sparkling.

Goretti held it up to his eye for a few seconds longer than necessary, as if afraid that the fog would find some way to dissipate from the jar. Tentatively, he shook the jar; it swirled rapidly but was still in tact when he finished.

Goretti's eyes sparkled almost as much as the captured fog did.

Even if nothing else happened tonight, he could be satisfied with this.

And--considering how great the wall of fog rolling in seemed to be--he wasn't sure he'd even be able to do more. The fog was descending quicker now, and the air had dropped a few degrees already.

He sucked in a breath and took a few steps into the smoky wall, squinting. When he breathed, it was thick and wet and uncomfortable.

Visibility was next to nothing, and combined with the uncomfortable sensation of each new breath, he decided to leave the fog. Turning behind him, he walked a few steps, only to realize that he must have gone in the wrong direction. He tried a new direction, and then another, but either the fog had swallowed him or he'd mixed himself up.

He drew in another uncomfortable breath and decided that he would have to call it a night.

With great care, he put the jar of fog in his backpack and zipped it up before fumbling for his phone. It lit up, casting an eerie light against the fog. Being surrounded by it felt like being lost in a cosmic river. The glittery mass clung to his skin, his clothes, his eyelashes.

He could just barely make out the right button to press to return to Earth, but carefully and deliberately, he selected it.

He'd have to investigate this fog further--another night.