nepetaleijon: (DEAD.)
nepetaleijon ([personal profile] nepetaleijon) wrote2016-06-24 01:39 pm

> Nepeta: Dream.


The mountainous forest outside your cave is alive with the usual noises of the early night: leaves rustling, water rushing, creatures hunting and being hunted. Something brightly colored flits through the air, moving more like a fish than a bird, but irresistible either way. Your first pounce misses, but that's all right; that just gives you more time to play.

You chase the colorful prey through the trees, leaping over underbrush and dodging around poisonous thorns and grabbing branches, until the forest gradually-suddenly (in the way of dreamscapes) turns into a suburban lawnring. There's a half-familiar figure there, in a black hat and a long black coat with silver buttons, chasing another of the flitting bird-fish-things through the air, right up until it sees you and stares wide-eyed.

It's familiar, all right.

It's you.

> Nepetas: Staaaaare.


> Skip to waking up.

You wake up in your cave after a series of unimportant dreams that will no doubt prove completely trivial in support of anybody's storyline.

[Alternately: It seems like this dream is too unimportant to remember right now! There's a lot of other stuff going on and it's probably not the best time. Let's come back to this later. Or not. Whatever.]