(09)
The first thing one notices about Yvaine's dream is that the air feels thin and thick all at once. It isn't exactly a pleasant thing to walk through a rain storm in the thick of its creation, so the star sifts through the clouds, all the while hoping she won't accidentally fall through one instead. The rain in the air does not feel all that different, admittedly, from being rained on at earth level, but it is much colder at such a height, wind threading ice through her veins and the indiscernible grayness obscuring everything that isn't right in front of her.
Beneath her feet the clouds are substantial but tenuous with it, and she freezes for an instant when she stumbles, eyes locked to the colorless puffs holding her up. She could not survive another fall and she has little trust in the way dreams work, almost suspicious of the freedom they offer on first glance, wondering what price there must be for that liberation. Perhaps the true catch is that one must eventually wake up to a world where recklessness and turning on point may not be rewarded or worthwhile, but even that has little to do with her own predicament. Yvaine happens to be one of those creatures who neither enjoys where she is nor looks forward to where she is going, and she supposes that is why she has found herself here. Wherever here is. Her last point of connection to Stormhold, she wonders how long the storm plans on lasting.
Wet, cold, and wordlessly afraid, she can only count the grace that she does not dream of witches cutting her heart out. The dress she wears is one she does not recognize, all midnight blue and shimmering that would compliment her if not for the way gold-silver tones appear ghost-white. Apart from that, the pendant she wears is no longer clear but the deepest shade of red, ruby, but she makes nothing of it, barely noticing with her attentions dominated by the weather. Treading onward, she cannot tell one cloud from the other, but standing still seems somehow infinitely worse than moving. At least if she is moving there is always the chance she will find her way out of this mess, all distant thunder and gray density.
[ooc; placeholder >_> decided to throw this out on my break since she sleeps during the daytime technically anyway yes, STILL, Tristan, getting to allll tags later, that is to say in this post and the others!]