A dream, hazy and drifting further out of reach by the moment. Important, urgent, ancient. It meant something, it was a sign, signal? It showed his future, present? Past? Nothing could be sure any longer. His heart rate quickened, likened from a trot to a canter. As his body took on a hyper-awareness, his neurons sped out of control. Each flash was lightening quick, but lacking in depth. This lightened state of consciousness settled over him, his small chest heaved as the world whirled to order. Stark lines and dark circles asserted themselves as leaves and swigs. A fine grating of sand crossed his body.
Dune stood, his diminutive paws trying desperately to grip dust as his delicate muzzle swiveled to the winds. Midnight dark eyes, small yet quick, blinked blearily in the harsh light. The world cemented itself into reality, smells sights and feelings all efficiently categorized by his new mind. The consciousness of the Swamp was almost palpable, a low thrum that seemed to emanate from the very earth on which he stood.
Clarity and instinct melded to inform Dune that he was a mongoose at this moment, inhabiting his spirit form. Around him the world was lush with detail: The differing shades each granule of sand possessed, Behind him animal cries of the swamp formed a toneless yet haunting song, before him, the glittering of an oasis far in the distance, a diamond in this dry land. He yearned for this oasis, the place that had called to him since infancy. Somehow he felt power was connected to that place. Somehow it was more then just a small pool of water, the juxtaposition of water and arid sand made something magical of it. He lurched into a swift run, small paws beating a rhythm across the sands. He urged to move faster, and his body responded. His limbs lengthened with his stride, stretching from mongoose to full sized Kimeti. His canter ate the ground before him, his mind set on one destination, home.
