Azalea was about tired of raising puppies. It always seemed to end up as her job and her job only. Those males were sure as hell eager to put the buns in the oven for her though. First time around she was stuck with two boys and this time she had double that! She was beat. So when Azalea hit the den to sleep, she was surprised that she couldn't seem to fall into a deep enough sleep. She wanted deep sleep. She wanted close her eyes and wake up from a black void sort of sleep. She wanted to not move one muscle and wake up with that fully rested feeling. Instead Azalea found herself in another world, dreaming she knew. The place was musky and dimly lit. She looked around, amber eyes blinking. "Hello? She called out into the dark edges of where ever this was.

He was angry, always angry. All the company he had here was his mother, occasionally he would see her speak to his father or some other people he didn't know but still he had no one here. Not one fucking soul to talk to. He had died angry and that seemed to be intensifying as time trickled by here. He hated it, he hated everything. His mother had assured him that his father would destroy Valhalla as payment for his death but would that be enough? Would that ever be enough? No... But at the same time he didn't know what would be enough. He didn't know anything and it was infuriating. He didn't know what had happened to Azalea and her unborn children, didn't know who had won the war, didn't know where his siblings were or his father. Not that he cared much for either of his parents anymore. At least his mom was here now and could no longer get hurt since she was dead. Just like him... Dead...

Massive paws were folded atop one another as he attempted to lay in this hazy wonderland and not hate everything. Especially himself. That was when he heard the voice, cut through the fog and for a moment he would frown. Was it his mother looking for him again? He grumbled before heaving his skeletal form to his paws and headed towards the sound. Though what he found froze him in his tracks. There she was, standing in this haze looking sharper and more focused then anything else. She was different then his mother, he could already tell as much. She was alive? His mother had told him that the dead could touch the living dreams but Vixe hadn't tried. Had she done this? Did he even want to go over and see her?

It wasn't like he was hiding behind a bush out of sight staring at her. There was nothing in this land, instead he stood to the distance, hoping he could blend into the darkness but something told him that if he could see her that she could see him. So with a sigh he would lumber over, a mixture of feelings raging chaotically through him. "Azalea...?" His words were a soft whisper, a hushed sound meant for her ears alone despite the fact that they were the only two here. How would she react? He had seen her on the battlefield that day, she had been one of the last things he had seen after all... It was hard to not spend every day thinking about her face.

Speech!

Azalea felt like it was eternity of standing there alone in that land of nothing. Somehow, though, it felt important she stay put. Something was going to happen, she knew it instinctively. Her gut wasn't what she lived by and yet Azalea found herself unwilling to wander. She didn't know that there really was anything here to explore. It was barren and past that it was all darkness. Her eyes surveyed the ring of dark out ahead until they locked on two spots of electric green. She took a step forward, recognition spiking in her. Eyes. And then their owner spoke and her voice hitched loudly in her throat, her legs growing weak and her eyes filling with moisture. A wave of emotion, no, a mountain. She hit it forcefully and Azalea found herself leaning back into a seated position with her shoulders hunched and her mouth gaping open. A ghost. He couldn't be real. She had heard him though, calling her name. She could see him. He was there. A dream! This was only a dream, she struggled to remind herself though it felt so damn real. "Vixe? She managed to choke out. Azalea pushed back to her feet, moving toward him with confused eyes. "But you're... Collision..." She stopped now, close enough to see all of him now. Still the same steel grey color with the same skeletal markings... and those eyes. He was just as handsome and edgy as she remembered him. Forbidden fruit. But his edges were fuzzy and he seemed... thin... transparent? Not entirely there. Dead. It had to be that. He simply wasn't alive. He really was a ghost.