It did not understand the dream. It found only irritation with the use of words, with the imagery It did not comprehend. It sort of was starting to put together what might be going as, as more images and sounds flashed before It, but in the end, all It knew was that It wanted this to end.

It did not understand the choice that was before It. It only moved forward through instinct. A desire to move forth and not stand still for long. Long black legs lead It through the second door, with the world changing before It. A thing It had experiencing walking through the shadow into Mythris.

There is a tree before It now, large and overpowering. There was a greatness to the tree that It could acknowledge, that the tree was a power being in itself. It looked up with harrowing red eyes, before focusing on everything around It.

Violence. So many others engaging with teeth, on things It had not encountered before. It feels Its hackles bristle and muscles tense. Eyes search for whoever is closest. Luckily, the closest thing was one of the wraiths. Without hesitation, the beast lunges forward and engages. Silently Its mouth parts, and It attacks relentlessly.

---

Jökull

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Valkyrie Gabrielle DeGrave

Valkyrie knew behind the second door there lay a wasteland of destruction and chaos. She knew she had to continue through, she had to fight. Pressing a nose to her husbands cheek she bid him a soft farewell and told him she loved him. Her citrine eyes beaming with love before she stepped through the door.

She heard screams and growls, snarls and screeches, her eyes narrows as she threw herself into the fray without hesitation. She had to fight for Mythris. For Jokull.

This dream shit was getting annoying. Azalea was never one to particularly fall for the mystical and magical, even silently making fun of the religious nutjobs she ran into. She might find them entertaining, maybe even interesting at times...but none of it was REAL....right?

Yet this dream felt different. It felt more...real. More interactive. She was given a choice, and she stepped through the second door. Her eyes adjusted, and she walked into a world of a great tree and threatening wraiths. She knew that these wraiths needed to be driven back. She knew the reason was so important, and it flooded her like never before.

She had been feeling weird as of late. Very weird, and her movement was not as it usually was. She did not realize what was happening to her body, slowly but surely, after her encounter with the exploding mouse. Something had invaded her mind, and in a days time she would be something different entirely. Azalea rushed then, her paws wobbly which brought her great frustration. She carried on, and sought to fight the nearest wraith that dare get in her path.

---

Their return to this world had come at a strange time. The sands of time would twist and ache, revealing a story that had lived within the pages of Mythris's past. There was pain, heartache, danger. And there was threat — and that threat encompassed everything he'd come to know and love.

In his time away from Mythris he had learned one thing.

He had learned how important it was to him.

The land, and especially those with whom he shared it.

Pasithea.

It was important enough to fight for.
She was important enough to fight for.

And fight, he would. As Pasithea charged forward, unraveling from their comfortable slumber, so too did the dragon. His long strides would take him through the middle door, the dark wraiths screeching horribly as they instantly descended upon the gathering of wolves. He would glance toward Pasithea, a silent plea in his eyes for her to be careful ... and he would try his best to keep close to her as he began to reach for the wraiths.

Fangs unsheathed, breath hot ... Makara would feed his love into fury as he sought to destroy what threatened the tree of life.

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