This dream was different than the last few. It made...

It made more sense, somehow. At least a little. She couldn't explain why.

The little her spoke with the [i]voice.[/i] She felt herself quaking, backing away, pushing herself back from whatever was happening here. The image of the lake suddenly grew thin and dull, like a huge sheet of printed paper. [i]No, no, n—[/i]

No.

Stop it.

She knew, sure as sure, that if she pulled away, she would wake up. She would wake up, and horrible things would happen to her. And then she would go to sleep again, and she would dream, and it would all just go back and forth and back and forth.

So she didn't. She stopped, and looked at this little Quinnlash, [i]really[/i] looked, for the first time. It didn't look angry, it didn't look like it wanted to hurt her. She remembered the sudden screaming panic in the cockpit. That feeling that things [i]weren't right[/i] all of a sudden, when every other part of her wanted to fall into that feeling of strength forever. To sink.

Her waking body felt ten million miles away, and so did all of its worries. When she spoke, her voice resonated strangely, bouncing and echoing off of walls that weren't there and coming back to her ears long after it should have, like the air it was traveling through was thick and sticky.

[color=FFE63D]You saved me, didn't you?[/color]

And then, [color=FFE63D]Who are you?[/color]