[WP09] Fire Made Flesh

[Tiarana]

Perhaps because Dogrot could not distinguish between dreams and wakefulness, it was able to wander as freely asleep as it did when it was awake. Sometimes, even, straight into the dreams of other kin, though few would ever assume the creature actually existed.

An inky black cloud spread beneath Fire Made Flesh, and with it came the rich stench of dead and rotting things; decaying logs and worm-eaten corpses and the thick deep smell of swamp underneath it all. The cloud suddenly coalesced into a creature much like Flesh, leathery wings and taut sinews and somehow blacker than the night; but the stink remained, omnipresent.  

[Tiarana]

It gave no answer, partly because it could not talk, and partly because it could not understand the words. Instead Dogrot angled its wings upwards and climbed sharply until it was higher than Flesh, then executed a loop at the top to place it directly above him.

It opened its mouth and it roared, raining inky spittle down on him, and then it tilted its head to look at him the way a chickenhawk might examine a sparrow. If the smell wasn't already all-pervasive, Flesh might have noticed that Dogrot had terrible halitosis.

Khryssie

 

[Tiarana]

The other not-dragon craned its head and peered down curiously before winking out like a light. It appeared casually next to Flesh now in the form of a cat, completely unbothered by the long fall - in fact, it didn't seem to be falling at all. It meowed at him and raked curiously at his scales with its claws. The creature clearly had no intention of helping him.

Khryssie

 

[Tiarana]

The owlcat yowled in pain and anger and melted into swamp water between Flesh's teeth. It coalesced again in front of him, this time into the form of a crane that fixed him with a baleful stare for a long moment before turning and flying away, leaving nothing but aftertaste behind it. And what aftertaste it was. Corpses and dirt and foul dark things, all a kin would find in a mouthful of swamp itself and more.

A doe he perhaps had been too distracted to notice tilted her head and stared at him curiously. She, too, seemed to be standing on perfectly solid ground. Finally she spoke up. "Stop falling, stupid."

Khryssie

 

[Tiarana]

Midnight Sun sniffed scornfully. "Why do I have to dream about you? Of all the kin in the swamp."

She stretched, first her forelegs, then her back, and gestured around them. They stood in a lush, deep jungle. From the forest floor to the towering canopy above, every surface burst with color, bright and dark, natural and unnatural. The sunlight took on eerie hues as it drifted down from the canopy and shadowy figures watched them from the trees.

"Look at them, disappearing at the first sign of trouble. Well, things were going nowhere good until you showed up. I've heard about these sorts of dreams, but never did I think I might have one. I suppose I should thank you, but I don't particularly care to. You're a figment of my imagination, anyway."

Khryssie