[center]\-\-\[img]http://i.imgur.com/n4TkxQM.png[/img]/-/-/[/center] [color=gray]Dreams. An escape, for the mind, for the senses, sometimes even for the body. A passage to another realm, more open and ready to be shaped than any possible in reality. For some, a paradise-for others, an exercise in terror. Linta, for now, dreamt of flying. Of leaning her weight on the wind, carried along smoothly and silently by the set of beautiful wings her bloodline had blessed her with. Ever dependable, sturdy, strong, her wings would never fail her, never drop her, never waver. Above her, the moons, her constant companions. All her life they'd watched her through the foliage, witnessed every moment and every milestone, a pair of distant observers to every event that shaped her. Around her floated the stars she'd tried and failed so many times to number, a myriad of dancing lights. Like children they followed her, like water they rippled out in her wake, drawing her path in the watercolour sky. The colours, though, soon faded, plunging the bottomless sky into an eerie monochrome. The air grew heavy and cold, feeling as if Linta had to fight to stay in the sky, instead of being supported by the rising fingers of the once-helpful breeze. A steady beat shook through the air, at first barely noticeable, a vibration seated deep in Linta's chest. The beat grew stronger, faster, somehow soundless but reverberating through her bones. Blackened silhouettes crowded the air in a storming spiral all around. Panicked, Linta flew faster, only to be cut off by a swirling wall of writhing shadows, trapping her inside the eye of the storm. The beating grew harder and harder, buffeting her left and right and taking away her balance. She fought to stay airborne, but it was as if the air had disappeared, Linta could not find purchase, flapping like mad until blue feathers tore off of her wings and she, like the stars and moons, fell spiralling down into blackness. [center]\-\-\............./-/-/[/center] Linda awoke with a start, breathing heavily with wings trembling and talons ripping into her sheets. A muffled pounding, like the rhythm in her dream, threatened to dent the door in its urgency. Suddenly angry, Linta screeched at the door, an ear-piercing, animal sound that sent the knocker running, if the thumping beyond the door was any indication. With a satisfied nod toward the door, Linta roused herself. Her tiny dorm was a mess, the few belongings that weren't nailed down littering the floor. Downy feathers were scattered there as well, and the blanket Linta had lain out on the floor had several large tears from her talons' iron grip. Linda scowled. She had a hard enough time sleeping in the tiny room as it was, and then some snake-witted idiot decides to wake her by pounding on her door? Evidently it would take more than a few weeks to get used to this place. Deciding she needed to see something outside, Linta made for the door, catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror on the way out. Her braided hair was as much a mess as a braid could be, and her horrid 'uniform' clothes were wrinkled and twisted, but what actually miffed her was the unkempt state of her feathers. Hopefully late she'd be able to find some ample time for preening. Linta made a beeline for Indigo's dormitory, but much to her discontent, she wasn't there. It wasn't until she couldn't find her sitting in a window somewhere that she remembered - some kind of gathering was organized for today. Maybe she'd be there. It took some time, but with the help of a few attendants lint was finally able to find this meeting place. Unceremoniously, Linta managed to wrestle the doorknob enough to get it open and crept into the room, looking around for her sister. She found her, along with many other, very strange looking people. An unidentifiable person in a mask, flanked by stone-still attendants; a woman in armour, one looking like the gruff trunk of a tree, one whom Linta thought greatly resembled an icicle, and a nervous wreck of a girl who looked as if she was simply wearing a pair of wings. If it weren't for their subtle, living movements, Linta would have thought that they were exactly that: a costume. Nonetheless, Linta silently made her way to stand next to Indigo, nodding at the others as she went and really not fancying the idea of trying to fit into a chair. [/color]