Silver Creek my father was a king and a son of kings

The dream catches her by surprise. Images dancing where there is usually darkness.  

She runs in her sleep. 

In her mind she sees herself with her cousins. Their nut-brown bodies stretched taut like bow strings, tensed calves thick with muscle. They are mixed together with the bullish, broad-shouldered consorts and beardless boys. They are like cattle being herded. The feeling of hot clay beneath her feet turns cold and soon she is alone, standing before her father's dais where there is only dust.


When she wakes the loneliness burns deeper than the cold. The dust is white. It is everywhere, and she is shivering.

her appearance was brown and lithe and reminded him much of his cousins to the south, which intrigued him. he didn't recognize her, but then, he'd been away from the family packs for so long. . . and he'd taken after his father's bulk, so the chances of her recognizing him seemed slim to none.

more likely, they were just strangers, and he approached this stranger cautiously, giving her a chuff.

this forest had been where @Brook and he had entered the wilds again. they'd run into that questioning woman then—and now, this. aditya hoped this woman brought with her peace and not trouble. 

he had grown much too tired of trouble.

tags for ref; no obligation to join! made some edits because i can't read

Her heart feels empty without the familiar heat of summer around her. She wants to be embraced by her father and told that all is well. To see her cousins again, decorate them with garlands before they feast.

The dream slips away like a stone skipping across the surface of a lake. 

The man standing nearby is huge, at least twice the size of her father, broad where her people were gaunt. He has a somber look about him. Senri watches him a moment. She stretches as she strides.

A sense of caution keeps her from drawing too near. It would be foolish to put herself at great risk with a stranger and so she leered a moment, speculative, before offering a huff.

they both were reticent to approach each other. only natural—you never knew who you would run into on the road. from his experience, aditya knew most souls were good ones and meant no harm. . .but the ones that did mean harm were brutal, and often inflicted it without warning. he gave a nod to her wordless greeting, allowing a small smile to show upon his muzzle.

namaste, behen, he offered. if she were family, he'd see familiarity light in her eyes, perhaps something in return, offered in his mother's tongue. if not, no harm, no foul; he'd simply change course.

but then, if she were family, would she know rajendra? adi shivered slightly (glad he could pass it off as the cold) at the thought of the dark man, and old scars suddenly burned again. he would not, could not, put his daughter in danger. any child of his that wasn't radha's could be harmed by his old rival.