[center][b]Yume[/b]
[IMG]https://images2.imgbox.com/94/9f/CQ2gn1nG_o.png[/IMG][/center]

It didn’t feel like waking. Rather being "spit out" of a nightmare. Outside wasn’t much better: cold, sounds of demon combat, and echoes of battle far off in the distance. Yume groaned softly, rolling herself to standing position. Her brain was throbbing, pulsing in time with the mythril etched into her skin.

She took a brief moment to nod at the moose lady. That was all she had time to do. They were off to the sounds of battle.

Yume, on the other hand, was not.

The trial meant a lot to some. To her, it was a pastime. A fun little challenge to stretch her magic skills a bit. But this tree… this wasn’t just some sentimental rite of passage. This was ancient. Powerful. Special.

…

[b]"This stupid fae blood is getting to my head…"[/b] Yume muttered quietly, her thoughts [i]way[/i] more like a pretentious elf than she ever wished to be. Nevertheless, she stepped behind the tree, they seemingly ran off, and it wouldn’t be long until they failed to notice the difference.

[b]"Who was that?"[/b] Yume asked the magic tree with her telepathy. She doubted she had to elaborate, but she did anyway, [b]"The… [i]Yumom[/i]. Did you just make her up? Could you… do it again?"[/b] The last sentence surprised even her. She never thought of herself as one to get obsessed over dreams and fantasies. But she was cold, her winter clothes wet and nasty from the snow. Shivering, alone in a strange land of fluffy people who talked weird.

She raised a hand, pressing it to the trunk of the tree, her forehead soon to follow. [b]"I’m tired,"[/b] she whispered. [b]"…so tired of being a stranger. And…"[/b] Yume’s mental thoughts cracked at the seams, as her own, uncharacteristically serious words reached out like psychic ripple, [b]"…if the world outside has nothing for me, I’d rather just sleep."[/b]