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Mar. 13th, 2011 03:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
npc-excolo.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
estdeus_innobisTime has little meaning here, though your body back home may disagree.
Dream.
A forest.
A forest of the oldest sort, thick with brambles, trees snarled with centuries of life. It stretches for miles, many of them very dark, because the trees grow so close that it is hard to see. From a high vantage point, on one of the hills of the forest, one may glimpse a tower at the heart of the forest, a great graceful column of grey stone. Here and there there are clearings, bright with sunlight, and streams running with clear water. But mostly there is dark.
In the distance, the howl of a wolf.
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Dream.
A forest.
A forest of the oldest sort, thick with brambles, trees snarled with centuries of life. It stretches for miles, many of them very dark, because the trees grow so close that it is hard to see. From a high vantage point, on one of the hills of the forest, one may glimpse a tower at the heart of the forest, a great graceful column of grey stone. Here and there there are clearings, bright with sunlight, and streams running with clear water. But mostly there is dark.
In the distance, the howl of a wolf.
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Date: 2011-03-14 01:51 am (UTC)The dead walk here. I can feel it, and I follow the sensation. Ah. Ah. So much power to be used in such a creature. I would have had his body, if I could. She guards the dead, though, and keeps them deep.
I am not wholly myself here; of that I am already aware. I keep my coat well wrapped around myself, to disguise whatever lies beneath, and I follow the dead man and the living (http://community.livejournal.com/estdeus_innobis/405098.html?thread=10244458#t10244458) at a distance.