Sun Mote Copse we are biding our time, for these myths to unwind

Weejay's lip twitched, but all was still across the rest of her body as night descended.. The great gods of sleep and slumber had taken her mind and spirited it far away.

In her dream she was running, running towards her mother -- but as her limbs carried her joyously ahead, the mere inches became miles and it was as if the world was rotating under her while Wildfire's sunny form pulled further and further away. She was about to cry aloud in twisted frustration when she heard her brother; whirling around, Weejay caught sight of Elfie's auburn form entangled once more in soft layers of pink fabric.

"Elfie!" Dream-Weejay chirped, stealing a glance to her mother who was still sitting there, hazy and shimmering in the distance. "Elfie, look!" Weejay cried, shuffling her tiny feet excitedly in place as she pointed a forepaw towards their dam's form, which oddly rippled and stirred like disturbed water. Being asleep, Weejay did not see the fabric of her subconcious working overtime to fabricate Wildfire's form; but if an onlooker cared to look on, they would see Weejay's dream world was a mosiac of not-quite right assemblies: inverted flowers, a strangely orange sky, trees that were formless up close, and a Wildfire whose fur rippled like the infernal face of the sun.