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estdeus_innobis[Afternoon, Thursday, December 31st, day 214]
[The Dreaming]
I don't dream at night. Which I suppose is no surprise, given that I don't sleep. Why the fuck would I sleep at night when there's so much else to do? There is prey to hunt and shadows to walk, dreams to haunt and blood to spill. Who can sleep when the night sky is running through your veins and the shadows sing in your mind?
During the day, though. I don't really need to sleep, whether man or dog or god, but during the day (when I have enough fucking sense to stay in my room) it's not like there's much else to do. When I was living at the manor, well, that was one thing. I almost came to enjoy paging through the crumbling books, or watching Anushka cast her bones, or just walking the halls and seeing the way they looked in the light. But here...here I can sit in my room, or I can go downstairs and eat, and that's about all that there is. My temple is ash, and I don't know that even my she-wolf could have turned this place into another.
So I sleep. But even then I don't tend to dream. I'm not entirely sure why...at night I can walk through the dreams of others, I used to give dreams, taking them from a sack over my shoulder and casting them into sleeping minds. But these days I rarely dream. It worries me sometimes, when I care to think about it.
So today, when I sink into the dreaming, I suppose that I should be surprised. Or at least revel in the novelty. But I walk the mists on men's feet and dog's paws, and it seems to me that I am just where I should be. Sometimes that's how dreams are, and it's best to sit back and enjoy the ride.
The dreamsstuff under my paws yields like soil, and cold air stings my wet nose. But when I turn to look it is with a man's eyes, and I feel the weight of my coat on my shoulders. Her last offering.
I turn, and I smile.
"Hello, sweet."
[OPEN to....]
[CLOSED]
[The Dreaming]
I don't dream at night. Which I suppose is no surprise, given that I don't sleep. Why the fuck would I sleep at night when there's so much else to do? There is prey to hunt and shadows to walk, dreams to haunt and blood to spill. Who can sleep when the night sky is running through your veins and the shadows sing in your mind?
During the day, though. I don't really need to sleep, whether man or dog or god, but during the day (when I have enough fucking sense to stay in my room) it's not like there's much else to do. When I was living at the manor, well, that was one thing. I almost came to enjoy paging through the crumbling books, or watching Anushka cast her bones, or just walking the halls and seeing the way they looked in the light. But here...here I can sit in my room, or I can go downstairs and eat, and that's about all that there is. My temple is ash, and I don't know that even my she-wolf could have turned this place into another.
So I sleep. But even then I don't tend to dream. I'm not entirely sure why...at night I can walk through the dreams of others, I used to give dreams, taking them from a sack over my shoulder and casting them into sleeping minds. But these days I rarely dream. It worries me sometimes, when I care to think about it.
So today, when I sink into the dreaming, I suppose that I should be surprised. Or at least revel in the novelty. But I walk the mists on men's feet and dog's paws, and it seems to me that I am just where I should be. Sometimes that's how dreams are, and it's best to sit back and enjoy the ride.
The dreamsstuff under my paws yields like soil, and cold air stings my wet nose. But when I turn to look it is with a man's eyes, and I feel the weight of my coat on my shoulders. Her last offering.
I turn, and I smile.
"Hello, sweet."
[CLOSED]
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