The Raven Dreamer
#1
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WARNING This thread contains: graphic sexual content, graphic violence, or extremely offensive material. Reader discretion is advised.
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Dream Sequence!
500+


The night was dark. It was as any other night, falling after dusk and soon to retreat with the coming of dawn. The earth was still, but the world was whispering as the heavens wept softly. Silver tears coated the foliage of the woods. Night birds joined in upon the ethereal song, but their voices were ephemeral additions, for they, too, wished to listen to the song of the earth. Tonight, in the Dahlian woods, the song was different—neither rejoicing nor lamenting. No voice save the pied Raven dare disturb the serenity that was held in the clutches of the night, and his voice mercilessly cut the air with black feathers that took him to the darkened sky. Talons clutched at the darkness as if the tenebrous matter were tangible. The Great Oak, standing sentinel, remembered that a year before, wrens had sung their blessing at the birthing of the two-egg twins borne from the womb of a Woaded Warrior. And the Warrior remembered also, drifting into Limbo at the bidding of a Raven.


There was only Darkness.


Here, the Woad that marked the curvature of her body seemed to glow, as did her eyes like the cold fires of the moon. Lughnasadh had bless the earth, but this year her womb was empty. The wolf no longer carried out the duties of motherhood, and the two-egg twins were old enough, skilled enough, to fight the wars waged upon them.


The Woaded Warrior lived now to win the wars waged upon her.


The woad shone, and the eyes were ablaze. And yet she was naught but a tenebrous shadow filling the shape that the blue and white had formed.


A sigh, savage with the sanguine passions of her soul, stroked the darkness with harsh claws. No longer wolf, the Raven Dreamer rose up in a shape she seldom took. When she had changed was unknown, but the wolf-born fae was accepting of the change and moved forth in the darkness.


She knew this place.


Scents rose up to stroke her mind, familiarity rising up to greet them. One she caught most keenly, and a hunger grew within her. The hunger began at her jaws, those jaws that took life and drank the blood that flowed from dying lives. But it was not a hunger that ended at the jaws. Like a lover’s touch, the desire traveled down her body, alighting her with that unfamiliar and yet most natural desire. It made her feral.


The darkness lifted ever so slightly, and the black-furred woman found herself in a land far from the flower pack. The Raven’s voice called once more, but his voice fell silent and would not call to her again in this Dreaming. A Dream. As powerful as the Raven Dreamer Dreamt, this could be naught but a Dreaming, an intangible reality. And here, in the familiar woods, she was the only one. Desire wracked her body like a disease. The Warrior snarled. This solitude was not pulchritudinous. She wished to know the knowledge that could be gained, and a lover had given it to her. But now, alone in the flower pack, she could not know it any longer. She had given up that freedom upon the joining with that man. Yet that man was no longer at her side, remaining in a far-off place at her own bidding.


Such pleasures were no longer meant for the Warrior.


Kneeling, she drank from the waters of the pool, drinking the essence of the Dream as if it were the source of her own ethereal quality. Soon she would return to the world of Reality.


Soon.

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#2
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Yay! Hope this is good, a bit rusty with the old boy

Dreams were not something he had. Maybe when he had been small and feeble, before his life was almost taken at the hands of the woman who had given it to him, maybe then he had dreamed. But after that all that had been left to him were nightmares. Things that woke him in the night and left his heart pounding as if it might explode from the exertion. With age and experience, those too had faded to leave nothing but darkness when he closed his pitch black eyes. It couldn't be said that it was a peaceful darkness. It was just nothing. All he took from sleep was the rest that was required to keep his body working. It wasn't a release, it wasn't an escape. It was just something that had to be done, like breathing and drinking and eating. All things he did in moderation. Only as much as was needed. The coyote had never been one to indulge himself in anything.


Until her. Then everything had seemed to change. The world around him, which had always been black and white, had taken on a strange gray area that he hadn't been able to understand at first. But she had taught him, and he had come to understand and accept into his life something he had never thought to obtain. Love. Before that there had been no drive, no priorities in him except for that to complete his self assigned mission in life. She had become a separate drive and priority though. He gave much for her, and she had given much in return. More surprises came with the two lives they had managed to conceive. He had never thought to be a father, he hadn't thought he could perform such a duty. Once again he had learned though, and he supposed that he could say that he had been happy.


The birth of their two children had been a year past now though, and no longer was she by his side. She had departed, and she had told him to stay with their children who did not wish to go. The two pulls that had worked in concert had suddenly become opposing, and the man that had always known what to do had become confused. There were days, nights, where he would venture after her. But as soon as the sun rose or set, he would return to the two young lives he had helped to create and had helped to raise, the duties of the father always overpowering the duties of the lover. The comfort of the twins gave him solace, but it was not enough for him to count himself happy any longer.


Light faded into the world. At first Onus figured that he must have been roused and his eyes were now open. The otherworldly quality of the place though soon told him otherwise. This was no physical place. The hair on the back of his neck rose on end. For one so grounded in reality, to be in a place so unreal was unnerving. Still, he found himself rising to his feet and walking. He had no idea what direction in which he was moving, or towards what end he was moving, but there was a pull and he could not ignore it. In fact, he found himself having no desire to resist it at all.


Soon, a pool of water appeared and he saw a figure kneel down to drink from it. Onus stopped then, and stared at the figure that was so familiar and yet had become so foreign that he found himself doubting the familiarity. She both not as he remembered and exactly so. It was her. Cwmfen. The man found his lips locked and his vocal chords paralyzed. He simply stood and stared and the woman he loved. The woman who had walked away from him and told him to stay. And he had listened.

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#3
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^w^ <3
500+


Double-banded ears swiveled at the sound—or was there a sound?—of approach. It was a familiar rhythm, the rhythm of a song she had been yearning for. The woad-bound maw rose above the water’s edge, the white orbs studying the water’s disturbed surface as if still unwilling to turn and find who she knew must be there. The tranquil gaze was calm, her heart still, the waters of her soul serene. For a moment longer, the Woaded Warrior watched her reflection, sighing softly to distort the image. There was something strange about the Dream world that was different from the world of Reality. She couldn’t quite place it, but she knew that it was there. The strangeness was like a feeling to the Warrior, for feelings—emotions—were difficult to experience. Perhaps the strangeness itself was an emotion—one that the Dream was unfolding for her, one that she had not felt in a long time. She knew then it must be him behind her. But she could not understand why she Dreamt of this. Why was she Dreaming this?


Cwmfen rose and turned, her movements fluid and ethereal even in this place of Dreaming. Her heart fluttered—suddenly she was no longer calm. The strange emotion washed over her, spreading from her breasts to fill her form with a strange warmth. Yes she knew this feeling so different from Lust and yet just the same. The white orbs showed briefly the sudden turmoil he moved within her before they grew still once more. Her gaze moved over his form, the familiar image delighting her mind. Still, he was too far for her to scent him, and she longed to simply breathe in the warmth of his fur and remember. It seemed as if the black wolf herself was frozen, unable to move. But the stillness was shattered as she took a step forward—then another. The distance between them was closed with surprising ease. It was as if the great distance that truly separated them was nothing. It was as if, for some reason, the Morrigan had gifted her this one Dreaming where distance meant nothing and where the love of two canines meant everything. Simple, and yet profound.


The simplicity and the profundity struck her breathless.


Woad-banded fingers lifted slowly, black claws gradually pushing through his fur, tracing up his skin. The white gaze looked upon his face, a flicker of the Love she felt for him emerging from a crack in the serene surface. Her hand came to his jaw, and she stroked his face gently. He was warm, his fur soft.


This Dream was so Real.


Slowly, she closed the distance completely, one hand sliding to his neck and the other gently touching his hip as she buried her nose softly at the base of his neck. She breathed in deeply, slowly, her eyes closing as she savored that most delicious scent. As in War, she had found a passion in him. His simple presence reawakened it, the song singing and humming in the air in the warmth of their bodies touching as they had not in a long time. “Onus?” the soft melody sang at last, the tones almost a whisper as they tickled his fur tentatively. Was he here? Or was this a base dream, and had she fallen into the grasps of non-Dreamers that the culture of ‘Souls thrived in?

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#4
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<333

She stayed by the pool, crouched down, frozen. His eyes traced over the marks upon her back, both the woad and the scars. The man's fingers twitched with the memory of running over those memories of battles past. His hands gentle with her as they were with no one else except for the twins. Part of him wanted to leave, to run from the image of her, finding the experience almost painful. This wasn't real. He knew this wasn't real. She was hundreds of miles away. Gone back to that pack that had held her loyalty before concern for the safety of their pups had driven them away. Onus didn't understand why she had left. Couldn't understand. There had always been things about her that he didn't understand, but he had never imagined those things would make her leave. What could be so important as to make her walk away from their family. To walk away from him.


She rose, and turned to face him, and the sight of her face made him nearly choke on the air he breathed. His shoulders subtly slumped. He didn't understand any of this. This all seemed so real and yet it was not and it made his heart ache. Another feeling rose up, the part that was hurt by her seeming abandonment. The vigilante's body once again tensed, stuck in a shifting maelstrom of emotions. He wanted to ask her why. He wanted to ask if she no longer loved him. Perhaps it had been too much, to think that anyone could love him for any substantial amount of time. Surely he was no easy man to love, to attach oneself to. He had thought she had though. He had, against all logic, believed that she would stay. The sorrow of refusal filled him back up and he looked in her eyes. Was there something similar he found there? The same confusion? The same anxiety?


She moved forward. One step at first, and then another, and then suddenly as if it had happened all at once she was right before him. Onus' body tensed, and he sucked in a breath as he felt her claws on his skin, her hand moving up his body. His own hands remained at his sides, still feeling paralyzed. Cwmfen gently rubbed his face and he let out a shuddering breath, his heart seeming to shed the negative feelings that had wrapped it up. The distance was completely terminated as she held herself to him and the rest of the air left his lungs. Almost involuntarily, he found his own arms raising to wrap about her form, one hand resting between her shoulders, the other on the small of her back.


She breathed him in against his neck and his eyes closed. His own nose took in her scent and it filled him with warmth, made his heart glow as it had not since she had left. He could feel his blood pumping, as if it were only able to do so in her presence. As if at all other times he was nothing more than a machine, moving and living just because it did not know what else to do. Large ears quivered as his name was released softly from her lips. The man took a deep breath and exhaled. "Cwmfen," he said simply. The coyote had never been a man of words, but now the few that he had failed him. Whatever hurt her leaving had given him, he knew that he could never stop loving her, even if he wanted to.

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