Those who are dead are not dead
08-08-2015, 06:29 PM
It was like any other night for the yearling. Warm spring breezes danced outside, creeping through the entrance though he remained tucked in a tight chestnut ball, reminding him that the humid season of summer would soon be upon him. Many thoughts pulsed through his mind, which meant there was little he ever forgot. First there was his brother, who he hadn't seen for a great length of time, although he missed him dearly. The only explanation he could consider behind his brother's disappearance was that he had finally left the pack, as he had once explained when they were younger. Wherever he was, Tinaro only prayed that he was safe. Then there were his friends, Calypsei and Lark, of whom he was quite fortunate to be around within the pack. However, his parents were always the last individuals upon his thoughts, especially his father who he had never met. After thinking about them, he always fell into a deep slumber, carried into a dreaming state.
-enter Sominium via sleep-
Most of the time, the Rapids were the only place his dreams transported him to. Ever since he had discovered the region's significance, he visited the area too many times in real life and in his sleep. Sometimes he encountered occasional yet vivid flashbacks of his mother's death, though upon this particular night, he was peacefully standing beside the Rapids as usual. Motionlessly he stood, his green gaze solely focused on the unusually calm waters below his ebony paws. Not a soul was around, creating an oddly quiet atmosphere wafting around his form. It felt as if he was all alone, the only being to ever inhabit the world. Everyone was gone.