Inner Voices, External Dreams

Álarr was having a terrible time sleeping. A thunderstorm had rolled through moments before, bringing with it violent winds that continued roaring outside his den as straight line winds behind the front continued to push it eastward. Giving in, Álarr dug through his personal stores for a valerian tincture and quickly dosed himself. He needed his sleep for his journey to Fern Gulley to scope out not only herbs for gathering but also the possibility of holding a mid-fall festival.

Álarr flopped down on a deer hide that currently made up his bed. Laying his head on his paws he let his mind start to wonder. At first his thoughts were on herbs and concoctions but they slowly drifted to his mother. A mother he had never met and yet often wondered about. Was she a fighter? A healer? His thoughts slowed until he was fast asleep and dreaming. Dreaming he was in some strange land. Cool grass laid underneath his paws, stretching out as far as the eye could see while a gorgeous blanket of stars stretched out overhead. Something about them seemed off, everything far more bright and intensely colored despite the lack of moon or sun.