In the absence of my wife and in the excess of time I have discovered I have due to the quiet that has settled across the Cove, I have taken to some interesting habits to pass the time. Though my dreamweaving is now as much a part of me as Panthera, there are still intricacies and nuances to learn about the strange magic every day; I have dreamt the sky to be spectacular colours, I have dreamt sea monsters into the lakes, and I have dreamt hope into the hearts of my people. Though these effects last only for minutes upon awakening, they are as real as anything I know: for those few minutes, the sky is blood red and proud; those sea creatures have stories to tell me that I can only imagine; and those people may choose to embrace the hope given to them, to take it and run with it.
Lately, I have discovered sleep walking.
The lucidity required for this type of dreaming is uncomfortable, and for the first while while I practiced, I would struggle not to simply wake up or to not simply fall into a sleep too deep for walking. The line for this trick is fine, and without any sort of impetus for it, it remains finicky. But even as it frustrates me and leads me to stomp and mutter curses, it is a task I can work on, that I can improve on, and that keeps my mind busy on other things instead of on how incredibly in danger my wife is.
We, too, have had an early birth; Aegean, the miracle child. Solace stayed here with him at first, leaving him only when absolutely necessary (a fact which is not entirely obscene considering that I am able to replenish the child's stomach in dreams), but she has been gone more and more. And Aegean, too.
I am sleep walking, when a consciousness bumps into mine.
It is young, and barely founded - a slate as blank as unseeing eyes. I draw closer to it, intrigued by the way it smells so new and so otherworldly, as if having come from a dark, secretive place. Physically, my body turns to directly approach the mother-son pair, the impetus of the child enough to secure my walking dream. I am in no way conscious at this time, but instead subject to the whims of my subconscious mind pressing its wills unto my physical form.
Cough. Breathe. Try.
The words sound hazy, as if the being I am encountering doesn't quite understand them; they are not his thoughts, but rather his interpretation of something just outside of his realm of consciousness. Worried now, my connection with the creature thins, the lack of oxygen reaching the foal's brain causing both of our dreams to shudder and fade. Panicking now, and still some ways from the pair, I press as much energy and want and will to live into the mind of the foal as I possibly can.
Try! Try! Try!
All grows dark.
My eyes open at last as I stop just before the tall black woman, heart pounding as I look to the child; but he breathes now (hacking, really), and I release a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. Shivering, I forget myself for a moment and simply stare at the child, dumbfounded by the amount of luck it had taken for me to find him at the perfect time.
Perhaps he would have pulled through himself, perhaps I had nothing to do with it; either way, I am grateful that the newborn will at least have a chance at this existence.
Jolting, I realize myself. Clearing my throat, I crane my neck to look into the eyes of the magnificent creature before me; despite being disheveled by the plague, she retains an undeniable air of elegance and authority, and something else that I can't quite trace. Licking my lips, I exhale slowly before introducing myself.
"I am Kagerus, the Caretaker of Silver Cove, head kingdom of The Sanctuary." I wince slightly at the formality my mouth chose to go with. Shivering, I look again to the boy, hoping to readjust my countenance before the mare chases me away from her foal for being an imposition. "You have a strong son."
I took a liberty here and if you have any issues with it I am ABSOLUTELY willing to take it down!
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver