Any Way the Wind Blows Jul 6, 2019 19:06:57 GMT -6
Post by Aubrey on Jul 6, 2019 19:06:57 GMT -6
At first, Aubrey thought it was a nightmare.
He’d had a lot of those since the change. He hadn’t dreamt much before, but afterwards, it felt almost like he couldn’t stop. Those nights, when he woke panting and sweating with his heart beating like a frantic bird against the confines of his chest, he thought that maybe he was beginning to understand how Aster felt. Back then, he hadn’t known that the realm of sleep could be so… fraught.
But his nightmares always began and ended in some dark, closed space, where he could feel the press of something on all sides. There was no path, nothing to follow, nowhere to move; this was different. The sense of comfort and guidance washed over him, and he closed his eyes to take it in, recognizing it as foreign but doing his best not to fight it.
The sight of a Tat-lung he has never met stilled him. He listened quietly to its words, feeling as though it was speaking in riddles. In the back of his mind, he thought faintly that he hoped Yeo-reum wouldn’t be quite so cryptic when he was grown, but then the stranger Tat was next to him, whispering in his ear.
Aubrey froze, relaxing only when the Tat-lung had stilled. His brows drew together slowly in a ruminative frown. “A dream…”
There was a flash of something, like deja-vu, or… or… He didn’t have a word for it. An elation that wasn’t his own, the sense of movement, of infinite space--- laughter, turbulence, colors and--- and----
It felt as though he was grasping at straws. No. He felt the refusal almost as if it were someone else’s; it was the wrong metaphor. It was more like… like chasing the shadow of a cloud.
“It feels like they’re… hard to pin down. Hard to… catch.” The words came slowly at first, as though he had to call upon them from a long way away. But as he spoke, the image became clearer. Almost wonderingly, he went on. “They love freedom and wide open spaces. They’re always on the move, going from place to place. And I get this sense like it’s not the destination that matters, it’s the journey, like getting there is half the fun.
“Mostly they’re playful and... they like excitement, I think. Sometimes they’re gentle… Easy, like a warm breeze.” For a moment, Aubrey relaxed. Then another recollection, this one less pleasant than the last. “But sometimes they’re wild, and then you can’t fight them. They’re everywhere at once, and there’s this howling...”
The sensations were so vivid that he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. But like the dreamer, they were gone as quickly as they had come.
In their place was an image, though not a very distinct one. “They’re this pale, long undulating shape, light greens and golds, like dancing leaves. Graceful movements. Something’s flowing around them… Something silky, like a mane, maybe? There’s this carefree air about them, like fizz in a drink or that feeling when your stomach drops out from under you on a carnival ride.”
A more concrete, tangible sensation made itself known to him. Aubrey stared at his hand, and was surprised to see a heavy, glowing coin pressed into the palm of it, very nearly too big for him to hold.
“Is this… yours?” he said, offering it to the Tat-lung.
[Theme: Wind. Four toes. Light shades of green/yellow/white. Graceful and carefree, but can be fickle and mercurial in mood. A flowing mane would be great.]