07-09-2008, 03:17 AM
[html][/html]
forgive the utter sloppiness of this post.
Her dreams were few and far between, and often quite important, which was why she was so affected by her most recent one. Her head swam with the fading details, and suddenly she longed for the person she least wished to see. The Old Witch had been an expert in dream interpretation, and often calmed disturbed sailors late in the night when they leapt from their cots like children from their nightmares. Bleach had laughed and teased them in the mornings until it was her turn to run to the witch's cabin, pounding on the door with a fervor that nearly woke the entire ship. It was then that the witch had made the fateful prediction, and shortly after, Bleach found herself wandering the scorched fields of the place she was supposedly destined to be. A nervous chill ran down her spine, and she suppressed a shudder.
Involuntarily yawning wide, Bleach's bright eyes caught sight of the coyote's garnet pair. With surprise, she snapped her jaws shut, making an audible clicking sound. The gypsy-wolf had only seen one other red pair of eyes in her lifetime, and from another coyote who had lived among these people when he was quite young. She wondered briefly at the coincidence of the matter, then determined it was due to some genetic malfunction lingering in the bloodlines of the wretches living there, and shrugged the thought off for the time being.
Full consciousness and dexterity was slowly coming back to her, yet it still took a moment to process the stranger's question. When she finally did, Bleach stared at him for a few moments more before drifting a few paces away and folding herself into the grass and flowers. Should she tell him what was actually going through her mind, or make up something silly as she usually did? The wolf was in an uncharacteristically mellow mood. Perhaps opening up to a complete, potentially dangerous stranger wouldn't harm anything.
"Ya," she eventually replied, turning her wide, bright eyes to the reclined male. "Dreams are strange things, are they not? They're quite entertaining, certainly. But do they mean anything? As in, do they show us our hidden desires, as some believe? Or, do they predict what is to come in abstract ways, as others believe?" The wolf paused, speaking more to herself than to the golden creature before her. After a few moments of silent musing, she remembered him. "What do you believe?" She was unaware of his silent challenge. Otherwise she would have tried to say something more impressive.