It was a sleepless night for the buck - a little while ago, having come to terms with the fact his search was not over, that dream would come to him again.The swift figure, fleeing down the waters. He ran after, seeking resolution, though he had barely started to see just who it was. He ran after, always. Sometimes it started anew, the same distance that he had started in the dream that had named him. Sometimes it continued from his search, after he had grown from a colt, fought the Flood, run from the plains, and came to the swamp. Sometimes the stretch of waves was endless, as was the run. He ran after, always - but it was tiring to wake again, when he had been running all night, simply to feel like he should do the same all day. Sometimes he barely felt older, barely stronger than when he was a colt.
And so he would walk down the nearest stretch of water, willing the waves to lull him to dreamless slumber, or perhaps that he would stumble into that seafoam silhouette he sought.
He was doing the same, this sleepless night. Along a stream, the gentle, winding curve joining into a small lake a way away. He meandered up, slowly, as with the flow of the water. Perhaps, he thought, I will lay down to rest there.
It was not to be. Once his hooves had led him to the start of the lake, they stopped.
Several strides away was a seafoam silhouette by the lake, lit dimly by the moon. The lake burbled. His breath, too, stopped.
oneironym
yeeey thank you, I hope this opener is OK! Only the last 3 lines are important for the setting lol
