Glimmers of a Dream

[Thalia]

It was like squeezing through a narrow passage when both mind and body were reluctant to be so channelled, but she digested the explanation seriously. Reflection of the waking world. Dreaming. She didn’t think of these things on her own – indeed, even when pointed out, they were heavy things for her focus on. He sounded purposeful. Intentional. Why had it never occurred to her that waking here might be a choice? Perhaps because it had always felt inevitable, like the rush of a tide –and why fight the river? Then again, why not? To her this place was intuitive, and she had never considered trying to shape it on anything but an unconscious level. She wanted a paintbrush? One solidified within her grasp – as it did now, in the moment she thought about it, and it vanished when her thoughts moved on. Such things were simply an extension of her expectations. She'd never questioned it.

Her gaze lingered on the space the coyote had been, thoughtful. "Nimeda," she agreed. "That’ll do. Thank you." She paused for a reflective moment, finally breaking her gaze from the stranger called Jon.

"I didn’t come here on purpose." She was confidant of that, not least because whenever she found herself here she had no purpose, just an existence. It was like dreaming. She was lucid, but she was also disconnected. And apparently she was the only one, since Jon seemed perfectly acquainted with the process that had brought him here. It is a known thing, he'd said. Of that, she was certainly curious. "How did you learn?"