Altar of Twilight Dreams that almost feel real

@Alya

His dreams were of the most pleasant in quite a while, the images that flashed on the back of his eyelids colored with the gold of sunlight and white of snow instead of the rusty red of blood. Ace watched his journey over the frosted land replay before him as he slumbered, but instead of the inescapable grief and crushing anxiety that accompanied his dreams of the past, this one was much different. The sublime scenery in which he conjured up within his mind was glowing with a yellow hue, the lithe trees before him seeming to shrink and fade away to make way for his path – a path that never ended. His paws would sink into the soft snow like a knife through butter, just to be pulled free with the smallest of efforts. The frozen fury of the whirling wind brushed past him without him knowing. The warmth that spread to envelop him entirely shielded him from the bitter cold before it could catch him in its grasp. He was smiling, running, playing with his beloved sisters and brothers that were easily emerged from their disappearance without any thoughts of question or doubt. He was free and joyous. And he never wanted to wake up.

The falling snowball on his muzzle shattered his dream to pieces; his golden eyes were partially open. Ace huffed out a silent breath, drowsily stretching his spine, his legs uncurling from beneath his weight. As he stood up slowly, he shook out his black fur slightly matted by sweat, flecks of snow flying from his large frame, his maw parting widely to welcome a quiet yawn. His sleepy gaze was flicking in all directions as if he was still looking for his siblings. Is he returning to his vivid dreams? The male wolf was still sitting underneath the snowy pine, but this time he remained quiet as a statue, his posture relaxed and his ebony shoulders almost dropping. He made an exit from the pine tree, his paws staggering along the white path, unaware of where he was going. His gentle eyes were still barely open.