In the Wilde, Ishmael replies somewhat smartly in that whispering tone of his, though it feels more mindful than spoken. He's far more aware of himself and his place here than Eren is and it shows, but he keeps from stirring the dream with gentle sweeps forward as they walk the summery green, and he doesn't seem surprised at Eren's transformation either; ultimately, what leads one in a dream is their hearts' desire, and that has been the truth for as long as Dreamers have dreamt. What comes with that is what is studied, particularly in seeking information, though he doesn't give much more than that.
The path seems long, but it's about as long as the one Eren and Darrus walked just before; it's the same, if more beautiful, life-filled in flora and fauna alike as small creatures flit at the peripherals of their vision. Their focus is his green lady, nothing else, and so they're more or less a blur.
And in the clearing, where the unusual stone rested, is the strong scent of pine, the glitter of emerald scales, keen golden eyes already turned their way. The dragon is just as large as the boulder had been, and reflects nothing of its current state: there is no Cwyld, there is no petrification in progress, and she is most certainly awake.
Ishmael hums in interest, but seems content to be a standby and allow Eren his time. He is just a guide and observer, after all.
"Who art thou," the dragon's voice rumbles through the air, strong and guarded, "and what is thine purpose unto this place?"
She dips her head slightly in acknowledgement, and speaks again. "I am Créia. What dost thou wish to speak about, dragonling? Thou hath the look of desperation about thineself, and it begets mine own concern."
After being asked if she remembers being petrified: Her gaze remains even, then it settles aside at their third for a moment before returning to Eren. "I do. I remember that, and every dream which hath crossed thy slumbering mind. Tis a foolish, wayward fantasy, yet remains that which is mine own to see done. Then, thou art from a time betwix? Neither the moment mine eyes fell, nor the moment mine eyes open?"
Once being asked "Is the Cwyld the reason why you sleep?": "It is." Being aware enough of it seems to surprise Ishmael, who hums in interest again. "Tis protection granted to I and mine own, to ensure that all is not lost. That a future can be protected, distant as it could be, but I confess t'was not mine desire to leave that which I hath called home."
She stands, towering high against the canopy of the surrounding forest, and swishes her tail as she turns.
"Come. I will show thou what must be done, for thou has come to wake me, hath thou not?"
There's this gut feeling that comes with it, that it isn't going to be anything easy, but she's eager now that she's been found; Ishmael, for his part, reaches out to touch Eren's arm, and mentions that staying too long would risk them never leaving. As fair warning.
The noise she makes is one of possible agreement, and her gait is surprisingly fast as she treads along the forest, through the lushness of this Wilde and on a path well-walked. Dreams, as they often do, folds time within itself, and despite the distance they might've walked it's as if none has passed at all, no fatigue nor sense of steps taken, and before them is a tree grander than all the rest.
It stands tall with scarred bark, with evidence of ages past in the knots and healed burns, dark wood branching off into pine-scented leaves, though they're clearly not needles. Créia slows as she reaches the trunk, half as wide as she is, and presses her claws against the bark.
"... This tree," she says, "hath an ill feeling about it in thy waking world. Mine brethren of sky and sea have treasures of their own, but thou see here that which holds mine own soul; find a way to free it of this curse and thou wilt free myself as well. Find mine brethren and see to them as well, and thou wilt be one step closer to the safety of thy world."
Threes, as ever. Ishmael studies the tree, and mentions that there's a large sort mentioned in song and tale, south of their northern most sister city, though obviously he can't say for certain one way or another if it's the same. The trees are always bigger where the leylines pool.
She considers the question ("Would healing your boulder help you?"), watching the tree before turning to Eren again.
"Yes," she replies. "Yes, it is mine belief that it would."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
NOVEMBER 2019 (DREAMWALKING WITH ISHMAEL)
In the Wilde, Ishmael replies somewhat smartly in that whispering tone of his, though it feels more mindful than spoken. He's far more aware of himself and his place here than Eren is and it shows, but he keeps from stirring the dream with gentle sweeps forward as they walk the summery green, and he doesn't seem surprised at Eren's transformation either; ultimately, what leads one in a dream is their hearts' desire, and that has been the truth for as long as Dreamers have dreamt. What comes with that is what is studied, particularly in seeking information, though he doesn't give much more than that.
The path seems long, but it's about as long as the one Eren and Darrus walked just before; it's the same, if more beautiful, life-filled in flora and fauna alike as small creatures flit at the peripherals of their vision. Their focus is his green lady, nothing else, and so they're more or less a blur.
And in the clearing, where the unusual stone rested, is the strong scent of pine, the glitter of emerald scales, keen golden eyes already turned their way. The dragon is just as large as the boulder had been, and reflects nothing of its current state: there is no Cwyld, there is no petrification in progress, and she is most certainly awake.
Ishmael hums in interest, but seems content to be a standby and allow Eren his time. He is just a guide and observer, after all.
"Who art thou," the dragon's voice rumbles through the air, strong and guarded, "and what is thine purpose unto this place?"
She dips her head slightly in acknowledgement, and speaks again. "I am Créia. What dost thou wish to speak about, dragonling? Thou hath the look of desperation about thineself, and it begets mine own concern."
After being asked if she remembers being petrified: Her gaze remains even, then it settles aside at their third for a moment before returning to Eren. "I do. I remember that, and every dream which hath crossed thy slumbering mind. Tis a foolish, wayward fantasy, yet remains that which is mine own to see done. Then, thou art from a time betwix? Neither the moment mine eyes fell, nor the moment mine eyes open?"
Once being asked "Is the Cwyld the reason why you sleep?": "It is." Being aware enough of it seems to surprise Ishmael, who hums in interest again. "Tis protection granted to I and mine own, to ensure that all is not lost. That a future can be protected, distant as it could be, but I confess t'was not mine desire to leave that which I hath called home."
She stands, towering high against the canopy of the surrounding forest, and swishes her tail as she turns.
"Come. I will show thou what must be done, for thou has come to wake me, hath thou not?"
There's this gut feeling that comes with it, that it isn't going to be anything easy, but she's eager now that she's been found; Ishmael, for his part, reaches out to touch Eren's arm, and mentions that staying too long would risk them never leaving. As fair warning.
The noise she makes is one of possible agreement, and her gait is surprisingly fast as she treads along the forest, through the lushness of this Wilde and on a path well-walked. Dreams, as they often do, folds time within itself, and despite the distance they might've walked it's as if none has passed at all, no fatigue nor sense of steps taken, and before them is a tree grander than all the rest.
It stands tall with scarred bark, with evidence of ages past in the knots and healed burns, dark wood branching off into pine-scented leaves, though they're clearly not needles. Créia slows as she reaches the trunk, half as wide as she is, and presses her claws against the bark.
"... This tree," she says, "hath an ill feeling about it in thy waking world. Mine brethren of sky and sea have treasures of their own, but thou see here that which holds mine own soul; find a way to free it of this curse and thou wilt free myself as well. Find mine brethren and see to them as well, and thou wilt be one step closer to the safety of thy world."
Threes, as ever. Ishmael studies the tree, and mentions that there's a large sort mentioned in song and tale, south of their northern most sister city, though obviously he can't say for certain one way or another if it's the same. The trees are always bigger where the leylines pool.
She considers the question ("Would healing your boulder help you?"), watching the tree before turning to Eren again.
"Yes," she replies. "Yes, it is mine belief that it would."