recurring dreams about you

[Fawn]

"I close my eyes and you always are there. . . "
- - -

￫ Milkmallow ☁️

Milkmallow basked in the serenity of his self-perfected corner of quiet every time he dozed off. It was a lush clearing bordered by shrubbery and cut by a lazy trickle of water, stars high in the sky tonight as a drizzle coated what laid beyond the safety of a stony overhang.

Tranquility hung in the air, time suspended indefinitely.

...It could use a few blooming flowers, though. They were conjured from memory, dotting the greenery with bright splashes of color while they filled the cozy sanctuary. Roses, lilacs, lillies -- nothing he knew the name of but could recall their beauty. A sugar-sweet scent followed, and he leaned down to enjoy a slow inhale of nature's bounty.

Peering up, a burst of adrenaline jolted him as an unfamiliar figure stood in his line of sight. Milkmallow blinked, astonished and at a momentary loss for words.

"O h . . . !"

He had never been faced with, with.. a visitor! Of all the quirky recesses of his mind that played out in dreamland, this was among the strangest for a critter who had a record of highly-mundane cognitions in the throes of sleep. It was typical that the blurry, shifting faces of clanmates came and went, refusing to stay long enough to let themselves be identified beyond more than an understanding of who they were. Non-verbal conversations occurred between the lines, but what he had before him...

It was as if the dream had encounter a hitch that couldn't be smoothed over with half-sensical explanations. A believer in the power of the subconscious and mystique, he would accept that his mind had a reason for introducing this soul to his rest.

Shaken from the surprised daze, he offered the politest of small smiles and a soft, "Please pardon my rudeness." He couldn't discern if the apology had been spoken aloud or merely exchanged in waves between him and this extension of imagination. And as his gaze glossed over his guest, Milkmallow realized the safety of a dream meant social niceties and conversational boundaries were more like... suggestions. No harm, no foul. Heck, he could even act like an entirely different cat, if he wished! The madness of such an endeavor!

Ah, no, he wouldn't-- couldn't dare. Dreams had the freedom to be wild, but who was he to go to an extreme? He vowed to stay true to the script, mostly.

"You must be chilled." Milkmallow gestured to a spot beneath the overhang, an invitation of shelter from the dangers of a dream-rain-turning-storm. "If it's not too intrusive," he hung on it, curious, "how might've you stumbled into this humble haven?" No no no no, too forward. He shook his head to dismiss the question. "Gosh, my manners, how brazen of me -- we've only just met." A flicker of intrigue burn within him at the revelation, and Milkmallow could've melted at the possibility of.. of this guest taking a liking to an atmosphere built so personally.

"Please, stay as long as you desire."


@spade

[spade]

It was one thing to be lulled into a blissful, dark sleep undisturbed by celestial images and fleeting colors that made up what Grimhound knew as dreams. There was a certain safety in it, a familiarity that blended with his own soul. A place where emotions ceased to exist, swallowed up by the beautiful abyss. Mimicking his own inner workings, a mirror of sorts to the chronic, yet not debilitating, emptiness that Grimhound was fond of.

This place though... it wasn't his favorite, to say the least.

Darkness was preferably over... whatever star-clung place this was, as he really had no desire to tread any path of light and springy rainbows. Instead it was much more "him" to be sticking to the dark like condensation to glass. A path lined with thorn bushes and whispers, offering an edge of excitement to a rather mundane night of sleep.

Regardless of whatever scenery entrapped him for the night, the large tabby knew better than to place any weight on such an escape; for it was always temporary. The land of the living was much better suited for someone of his... stature. Here, there was no harm to be done. No games, no manipulation, bar the everchanging environment that seemed to twist and turn in the most unpredictable and inconvenient ways.

Amber eyes darted around suspiciously now as a steady drum of rainfall coated Grimhound's pelt, soaking through rather quickly. Huge paws churned the earth below, creating the hounds' path. Not a sign of shadows in sight, just the overwhelming uncomfortableness of light and positivity - it was utterly disgusting. Was there anyone even here? What was the point of this?

Seemingly gifted to him was the sight of such - another dream dweller. Were they one of the dead ancestors that those Grimhound now shared a home with seemed to oogle over? Confess their undying loyalty to? Whoever this cat was, and whatever their reasoning for being here - or, more likely, dragging him here - this would be his entertainment for the night.

If his mind wanted to play tricks and keep him from his normal dark solitude, then so be it. Grimhound would enjoy this.

"I've been caught in worse," came the honey-like reply, smooth and silky as he bounded the rest of the way, feigning a grateful glance to the stranger as the top of the rock stopped anymore water from being poured onto him. Gone was the usual dark tint to his amber eyes, replaced by that of light and longevity. Stars, if Dawnstar saw him now she might not recognize the tom. Not a sniff of the violence-loving hound to be seen. But then again, this was a dream. A figment of his exhausted mind; there were no rules binding him. The hound had been set loose.

Giving a nod to the strange cat as he turned, taking a seat as his fur fluffed out around him in an attempt to dry off, he added, "I was following a path alongside a riverbed. I... must've taken a wrong turn at some point. Please, if you might, tell me where it is I've stumbled to?" Inquisitive amber eyes met the paleness of his new companions, filled with curiosity and wonder. Hidden below still was the ever raging fire that encapsulated Grimhound in the waking world. For now though, he had no reason to reveal that part of himself.

For now, he would simply blend in.

// @Dipper