A Dream Within a Dream

Confusion and panic surged through Mariah, a tempest ravaging her already battered mind. Nightmarish visions danced before her eyes, her ears filled with the echoing laughter of Moros. He was there, he was not. She was with Caedes, but she was also alone in the grip of her torturer. Reality blurred and melded with the nightmare, tearing at her sanity. The smell of Caedes, warm and familiar, was overwhelmed by the putrid stench of Moros. She whimpered in fear, her body convulsing as the two worlds collided within her.

Her vision wavered, the world tilting vertiginously as Mariah struggled to grasp his words. Her den? Safe and sound? Yet all she could see was the monstrous form of Moros looming over her, his malicious grin stretching wider with each passing second. She trembled uncontrollably, her claws digging into the bedding beneath her, desperate for something real, something solid. She could feel the warmth radiating from Caedes, his fur brushing against hers, offering silent comfort. Even so, she couldn't shake off the icy tendrils of fear that coiled around her heart.

Her breath hitched as she strained to focus on his words, her mind was a whirlpool of fear and confusion, her heart thundering in her chest like an erratic drum. He wouldn't let her face this alone...? Caedes' voice was a gentle lull in the maelstrom of her torment. The scent of him, earthy and familiar, began to permeate her senses, pushing back against the vile stench of Moros. Mariah pressed her nose into his fur, the physical reality of him a salve against her fears. She trembled still as her body clung to the remnants of terror that had gripped her so tightly. She let out a whimper, soft and fragile, and her silver marked eyes slipped closed, drawing in his scent, his presence. It was just a dream. This was real. Moros was just a dream.

Blinking open her eyelids once more, she was in her den. Safe. In a mess of bedding. But safe. Without looking at him, Mariah let herself fall against Caedes’ chest, her much smaller frame curling into his. His heartbeat was steady, rhythmic, and real beneath her. The sensation of it, the sound, began to seep into her own rhythm until they were synchronized She let out a shuddering breath, her ears flattening against her skull, the crimson tips still glistening with the remnants of cold sweat. Caedes’ voice came like a soft purr, a rumble deep in his chest that spread warmth into Mariah's trembling form. His words were muddied by her fear-addled mind, but his presence was a solid, inarguable fact; comforting in its unyielding reality against the phantoms of her nightmares. She clung to this, the physicality of him, the tangible proof that she wasn't alone.

"Mariah Mendacium"