Seaside Moors any groove to make you move,

he walked the slim margin of consciousness and dreamveld, feeling with every step his balance was somehow compromised -- as if he were walking across a narrow gorge of dazzling heights.

through this maelstrom of firewater and tundrian grey he continued, the path as intimate as his soul -- known to him better than possibly anything else earthside.

he was walking to a cave hooded in shadow. its mouth was dark.

he knew somewhere within that mercurial shade had slipped, that all-important, all-encompassing other-piece of his elusive soul.

and when he bent his head to duck under, the blackness was suddenly punctuated by the glare of two luminous, hateful eyes.


valravn woke with a scream, unaware of his mother's deep thoughts or the fact he was safe. he began to claw violently, sightless and terrified -- to the point he flipped over onto his back and let out a deep and disconcerting wail of terror.