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Wandering through a forest, darkness is flooded with soft, warm light of a gentle pink hue. Llune walks through this place, lush moss cushioning her steps underfoot and streamers of flowered willow-like tree branches obscuring her view of whats further than 5 feet in front of her. The fragrance of this relaxing place is that of herbal tea and roses. Llune hums gently, moving forward as though she's got somewhere to go, something to find. There's an underlying current of needing to get there, needing to find it, but what is the it? That is, as in most dreams, elusive, ruled only by the emotion of need.
Time passes in ages equal to fractions of moments, and Llune comes upon the edge of this lush forest, standing suddenly at the tree line and looking once again into a distance no longer obscured. Before her stretches a plain of tall grasses and garishly colored flowers. And, what seems like miles and miles away, crouched along the horizon, is the form of some sort of building. It's difficult, nearly impossible to see, and without the knowledge privy only to those in the dreaming world it would've never been noticed.
But Llune notices the building, however, and begins moving through the fields, stopping occasionally to pick the brightly colored flowers, towards what seems, at least in this dream thus far, to be her ultimate destination. What waits for her there? Why is so so drawn to that place? To what end is she gathering these flowers? These are questions that can only be wondered once she has escaped this world of the dreaming, if, of course, she is able to remember any of this upon her waking.
Wandering through a forest, darkness is flooded with soft, warm light of a gentle pink hue. Llune walks through this place, lush moss cushioning her steps underfoot and streamers of flowered willow-like tree branches obscuring her view of whats further than 5 feet in front of her. The fragrance of this relaxing place is that of herbal tea and roses. Llune hums gently, moving forward as though she's got somewhere to go, something to find. There's an underlying current of needing to get there, needing to find it, but what is the it? That is, as in most dreams, elusive, ruled only by the emotion of need.
Time passes in ages equal to fractions of moments, and Llune comes upon the edge of this lush forest, standing suddenly at the tree line and looking once again into a distance no longer obscured. Before her stretches a plain of tall grasses and garishly colored flowers. And, what seems like miles and miles away, crouched along the horizon, is the form of some sort of building. It's difficult, nearly impossible to see, and without the knowledge privy only to those in the dreaming world it would've never been noticed.
But Llune notices the building, however, and begins moving through the fields, stopping occasionally to pick the brightly colored flowers, towards what seems, at least in this dream thus far, to be her ultimate destination. What waits for her there? Why is so so drawn to that place? To what end is she gathering these flowers? These are questions that can only be wondered once she has escaped this world of the dreaming, if, of course, she is able to remember any of this upon her waking.
