Reina was floating. Her body was smoke and mist, without form as she was blown this way and that by an unhurried breeze. Or perhaps it [i]was[/i] hurried. There was some form of urgency poking at the back of Reina's mind. She was needed for… something. Or maybe she was just in the way. She could never tell.

As flighty as her dream was, Reina's journey to the world of the waking was a solid, measurable thing. It began with her hearing. Sounds were too sharp, too loud. Scent was the same – things she shouldn't have been aware of came trickling into her mind. She could hear every time a nearby stream tripped over a rock or around the bend, and smell the scents it threw into the air, dredged up from the churning soil. When she finally managed to open her eyes, the world was all colors and light, too many rainbows arcing across the sky.

It was then that she began taking stock of herself. Her limbs were too short, her body too round, the world around her too [i]big. [/i]Instead of a soft cotton shirt and a pair of denim jeans, she wore a broken egg shell that was… actually pretty comfortable. All she could say in a voice far too… squeaky was:

"Ok what the hell?"