Northstar Vale And when I came to, I had an epiphery.

AW who would be in the den.

As she slept—on-and-off, quite restlessly—Lilitu dreamt of names and faces.

It was funny—she had no notion of the concepts of names or faces. Being deaf, she had never heard a name; being blind, she had never seen a face. But here they were, popping up, some dozen or so appearing over and over in her dreams.

The names were only whispers, though, and the faces obscured, abstract. Like a reflection in a pool of water disturbed by ripples, though not ripples created by some great impact but merely a gentle breeze. The faces were there, but distorted and blurred slightly. The whispers were soft enough to only grasp the essence of syllables.

But here they were.

They meant nothing, and yet somehow, they meant everything.

Lanawyn. Lennon. Lainie.

They came mostly in trios, too, and in smooth and blissful alliteration. Wrapping themselves around her head and into her ears. Weaving in and out. The faces bloomed like flowers before fading again, replaced by another trio.

Olive. Aliac. Alarian.

All this and Lilitu sat watching, a spectator to this cosmic show. Her mouth in the spirit world might have been agape with awe; in reality, it was agape in sleep and she was drooling all over her mother's belly. Mmmm. . .baby drool: nature's shampoo. Drool tinged with slightly-soured milk—how very fun for Ibis! Must smell delicious!

Cam. Khali. Korei—

MEEGHHHHH!

As wonderful as the dreams were, they were fleeting. They dissipated quickly as Lilitu roused, disturbed by one thing or the other. She may never be a deep sleeper, caught between two worlds as she seemed to be. The faces pulled her one way; the cool earth beneath her pulled in similar fashion. Insistent, begging.

Stay! Stay! Stay!

Her head also ached, a sharp agony that wrapped 'round her skull like the world's worst tiara. A crown of thorns, if you will—Lilitu wouldn't understand that reference, though she'd be perfectly willing to believe she was some sort of Messiah.

Messiah or not, it was a literal pain in the (area above her) neck, and she whined loudly, pedaling her paws against Ibis's lithe ribcage. Perhaps milk would solve this crisis. Blindly, she pedaled her way toward a teat. It felt as if she were swimming in darkness, looking for something lost. Would she find it? Would she—?

Oh, yeah. Well, she didn't really find it so much as bump right into it, her muzzle slamming into the fleshy nub with considerable force. The impact sent a fresh wave of hurt through her head and she winced, whimpering, before latching onto the nipple with ferocity.

Take that, nipple!

She began to fall asleep again even as she suckled, milk beginning to haphazardly spill from the tiny corners of her mouth. Soon, she was deep in slumber, her head slipping off the teat to fall gently upon her forepaws. Here came the drool again. . .

Sunny. Silas. Seabreeze.

The faces came in all shapes and sizes, of all the colors of the rainbow (another concept Lilitu had yet to learn, but somehow understood it perfectly here because dreams are wack, yo). Still distorted, still blurred. But their eyes cut through, twinkling at her like the most brilliant stars.

Green, blue, brown, gold. Even better than stars; the universe didn't make them this vibrant.