08-24-2009, 06:32 PM
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Oh! The Dream Maker isn’t anything special—it’s just the person that Amata thinks makes dreams, like the tooth faerie or something, ^=^;;
And we can end it here, if you want—just send me a PM or something letting me know, ^=^ And the quality of this post is not anything like yours ><
700+
As Aunt Gheet-tah made a thinking sound, Amata made a thinking sound too. Her head grew tilted once more, although it was at a milder angle. The blue and green eyes watched the adult expectantly. And, as Aunt Gheet-tah smiled, Amata smiled too. The explanation that followed made Amata think. She nodded a brief and silent ‘yes’, because what Aunt Gheet-tah was saying made very much sense too. "Oh! Vedo!" Head was straightened, and Amata smiled, her tail wagging. "Ho pensato che le nuvole erano tristi sempre, dunque ero triste anche. Sono molto più felice ora che lei mi ha detto che non sono tristi sempre, perché le nuvole devono essere felice anche." What a relief this was! She was very glad to know this now, and she felt like a cloud expert.
The creamy girl stood there with her sadness, her tail limp behind her. She looked up hesitantly as the grown-up approached, afraid that she would receive some sort of scolding. But instead Aunt Gheet-tah placed her muzzle on her head and offered words of reassurance. A little whine escaped the girl as she wiggled her head, thusly nuzzling he adult with her short head furs. "È giusto, Gheet-tah Zia!" she responded. "Non voglio farla triste... Ma ascolterò quando lei parla. " A little smile was offered in return. The girl wasn’t supposed to make an adult sad! That wasn’t even something that was supposed to make sense within the little mind.
"Oh! Lei deve tenerli scintillante?" she exclaimed cheerfully as she lay there in the hay. "Non ho saputo. Ho pensato che sono stati scintillante sempre!" She giggled and laughed at her funny thoughts. Hows sillies of my to say that, she thought with that child like delight as she scolded herself for assuming such crazy things. Little Amata was glad that Aunt Gheet-tah was understanding of her thoughts.
Amata, although she did not realize it, began to drift farther and farther away. In her mind she was awake and alert, but in reality, her eyes were dropping and her head nodded as her body began to relax in the preparations for sleep. It was her Aunt Gheet-tah’s voice that caused her to awaken. The little head lifted up, her eyes struggling to peel open. It took several moments for the girl to register what had been said and finally the words began to sink through her sleep-muddled mind. For several long moments the girl was silent. There came a couple of sniffles before a large yawn broke through her defenses. A little squeak punctuated that heavy breath as she smacked her chops. " Non so ancora," came the long-awaited reply, and another smaller yawn escaped her. "Lei dovrà chiedermi di nuovo dopo, e penserò di esso fino ad allora." Because she had only just met her Aunt Gheet-tah, Amata wasn’t sure what exactly reminded her of her aunt. But she would definitely think about it. Her eyes slowly began to close and she gave a slow, wheezy giggle. "Un che la gorgogliando insenatura!" she exclaimed before settling down once more, leaning back against her relative.
Slowly, gradually, Amata had drifted off to sleep. She didn’t know when, and her mind did not even register that she had fallen asleep. A soft sigh escaped the limp body as oblivion folded about her. She dreamt of clouds and smiled faintly, her leg twitching as she ran—or was she dreaming of running? The clouds were bright and puffy and soft beneath her little paws. She remembered being here before. Giggling delightedly, she greeted each of the clouds, and they remembered her. They sang to her. At first, the voice was familiar, but then, slowly, the singing became a chorus that the clouds were singing, and their voices were the sound that the wind made when it whistled by the window—only happier. This dream land was not better than her real life, just different, and different was always fun. She pranced about as she played and sang along as they sang. And soon she would wake up and be home again. But not yet. And so it was that she fell into that deep sleep, laying against her Aunt Ghee-tah.
Oh! The Dream Maker isn’t anything special—it’s just the person that Amata thinks makes dreams, like the tooth faerie or something, ^=^;;
And we can end it here, if you want—just send me a PM or something letting me know, ^=^ And the quality of this post is not anything like yours ><
700+
As Aunt Gheet-tah made a thinking sound, Amata made a thinking sound too. Her head grew tilted once more, although it was at a milder angle. The blue and green eyes watched the adult expectantly. And, as Aunt Gheet-tah smiled, Amata smiled too. The explanation that followed made Amata think. She nodded a brief and silent ‘yes’, because what Aunt Gheet-tah was saying made very much sense too. "Oh! Vedo!" Head was straightened, and Amata smiled, her tail wagging. "Ho pensato che le nuvole erano tristi sempre, dunque ero triste anche. Sono molto più felice ora che lei mi ha detto che non sono tristi sempre, perché le nuvole devono essere felice anche." What a relief this was! She was very glad to know this now, and she felt like a cloud expert.
The creamy girl stood there with her sadness, her tail limp behind her. She looked up hesitantly as the grown-up approached, afraid that she would receive some sort of scolding. But instead Aunt Gheet-tah placed her muzzle on her head and offered words of reassurance. A little whine escaped the girl as she wiggled her head, thusly nuzzling he adult with her short head furs. "È giusto, Gheet-tah Zia!" she responded. "Non voglio farla triste... Ma ascolterò quando lei parla. " A little smile was offered in return. The girl wasn’t supposed to make an adult sad! That wasn’t even something that was supposed to make sense within the little mind.
"Oh! Lei deve tenerli scintillante?" she exclaimed cheerfully as she lay there in the hay. "Non ho saputo. Ho pensato che sono stati scintillante sempre!" She giggled and laughed at her funny thoughts. Hows sillies of my to say that, she thought with that child like delight as she scolded herself for assuming such crazy things. Little Amata was glad that Aunt Gheet-tah was understanding of her thoughts.
Amata, although she did not realize it, began to drift farther and farther away. In her mind she was awake and alert, but in reality, her eyes were dropping and her head nodded as her body began to relax in the preparations for sleep. It was her Aunt Gheet-tah’s voice that caused her to awaken. The little head lifted up, her eyes struggling to peel open. It took several moments for the girl to register what had been said and finally the words began to sink through her sleep-muddled mind. For several long moments the girl was silent. There came a couple of sniffles before a large yawn broke through her defenses. A little squeak punctuated that heavy breath as she smacked her chops. " Non so ancora," came the long-awaited reply, and another smaller yawn escaped her. "Lei dovrà chiedermi di nuovo dopo, e penserò di esso fino ad allora." Because she had only just met her Aunt Gheet-tah, Amata wasn’t sure what exactly reminded her of her aunt. But she would definitely think about it. Her eyes slowly began to close and she gave a slow, wheezy giggle. "Un che la gorgogliando insenatura!" she exclaimed before settling down once more, leaning back against her relative.
Slowly, gradually, Amata had drifted off to sleep. She didn’t know when, and her mind did not even register that she had fallen asleep. A soft sigh escaped the limp body as oblivion folded about her. She dreamt of clouds and smiled faintly, her leg twitching as she ran—or was she dreaming of running? The clouds were bright and puffy and soft beneath her little paws. She remembered being here before. Giggling delightedly, she greeted each of the clouds, and they remembered her. They sang to her. At first, the voice was familiar, but then, slowly, the singing became a chorus that the clouds were singing, and their voices were the sound that the wind made when it whistled by the window—only happier. This dream land was not better than her real life, just different, and different was always fun. She pranced about as she played and sang along as they sang. And soon she would wake up and be home again. But not yet. And so it was that she fell into that deep sleep, laying against her Aunt Ghee-tah.