Redhawk Caldera Vessel

The sound of his son's voice nurtured his soul- which, all things considered, was all that was left of him, really. He saw the tiger square her paws, and crouch. He mirrored her posture, laying flat his ears in preparation, and just as the tiger leapt, a scream split the air- and simultaneously, it split the fabric of reality and dreamscape, too. 

He leapt for the tiger the moment she leapt for him, and felt the rush of cool air sweep in as their momentum carried them out of the boy's dream, and into the cold night. 

Both of them were hurled far from one another, far away from the child who had finally been able to wrench himself from his dream, once his fear had subsided. 

He pulled himself to his feet. 

"You can't hurt him now." He growled. 

The moon had begun to rise over the horizon; its light a pallid orange glow that threatened to pale to silver as it lifted. The eyes of both ghosts were drawn to it; and then back to one another again. 

He saw her return to her own, wolf form. She was as dreadful as she was beautiful.

"Go." He said. 

Time was running out; he could feel himself fading in the moonlight, as though it threatened to pass right through him. He could hold it back for now- but he wanted every last moment with his family- and that did not include his mother.