[private]

[cataract]

It's the field again. Rain has beaded on the grass. Storm clouds lower in the sky. The tree is still there, at least, and today Light's settled on one of its branches.

He doesn't remember the details of these dreams when he's awake, but they're unsettling him more and more.

[[OOC: private to stripesandheels.]]

Comments

[stripesandheels]

She wanders through the field, in a bright rubber duck yellow raincoat, with a paddington bear hat pulled over her head.

[cataract]

Light spots the yellow blob, and the hat with the bear, and the goggles, and watches her come. Brown hair, dark brown shirt; in the dull afternoon, it's possible he could blend right in with the tree.

[stripesandheels]

She doesn't see him at first. She settles down underneath it, and leans back against the trunk.

[cataract]

It's not that he can't believe she's missed him; more that he wonders how long it will take her to notice someone's in the tree just above her. He could wait to find out, but doesn't; instead, he clears his throat, wry and just the right pitch to convey why yes, this is my tree.