Glimmers of a Dream

[Thalia]

The aborted chastisement washed over her like water, though she did look at him curiously; more in puzzlement at what he had been about to say than the fact she had clearly done something wrong. I must not - what? She waited for Jon to explain, but he didn’t. Instead he shook off whatever bothered him, and she accepted the reversion of topic back to what she’d asked – though her enthusiasm seemed better contained now, and her hand finally withdrew. Danger. He had spoken of danger, before, and maybe she had--? The dots didn’t quite connect, but she fed off his serious energy and didn’t press the issue; just internalised the lesson of caution, even if she wasn’t completely sure what that meant.

The idea of others intrigued her; he’d spoken already of his people, and now he gave them a name that elaborated a helpful context. She’d not even tried to place Jon’s distinctive features, but the words Native American resonated understanding to the forefront of her mind - like a stone plucked from a riverbed. Once pointed out, or held directly in front of her, memory stirred so that she was not completely vague. She was pleased with the suddenness of that discovery, and it probably showed in her expression; the minute widening of her eyes, the height of her brows. How long it would last, she couldn’t say, but right now, in this second, she actually understood.

She’d seen others here from time to time, but – insofar as she could remember, at least – not like Jon. Had she? Her thoughts stuttered uncertainly, but nothing broke the surface. She was not Native American. She knew that. And she had no legacy with which to explain her presence here, no answers she could offer to the questions he must have. She'd never been interested in unravelling the mystery herself - there had never seemed any point; she came, she left, and eventually she returned. Now was different, though. Now it felt like something of an adventure.

"Now, you mean? Is that possible?" Eagerness had returned, and though his smile was somewhat reticent, she beamed as though she'd known him all her life rather than all of five minutes.

[Jon Little Bird]

Seeing Nimeda's eyes brighten at Jon's proposal to meet another who walked the Spirit World helped wash away the lingering emotional shards that had pierced his consciousness earlier. His mind felt more at ease, there was no lasting harm done by his carelessness of instruction. He had to seek someone more knowledgeable, though -- one who might know what to make of this clearly talented woman, and perhaps help Jon keep her alive in this place. She showed such energy and curiosity he couldn't help but smile back at her.

"It is actually an easy thing to move from one place to another in the Spirit World," he told her. "As this place is but a reflection, our bodies are also mere reflections as well. With a thought you can --"

He imagined himself away from Nimeda and in the corner of the art studio. Shift.

"--move without passing through the space in between," he finished, now ten feet away from her.

Perhaps a bit of surprise registered on Nimeda's face, but it was hardly startlement and certainly not fright. Just curiosity. Was there nothing that unsettled her? This worried Jon. Would she wander head-first into someone's nightmare and become fully immersed in it, unable to break free and unknowing the true danger she could be in, not knowing that she could perish in this place and never wake again?

He walked back across the room to her. Theatrics were best not overdone. Who should he go find who was walking the Spirit World? It was difficult to gauge the passage of time, but there were likely at least someone he knew. In the years since he'd begun walking he had learned that several of the tribes had at someone with the gift to walk the Spirit World. This was always a carefully kept secret, the uses of what was gleaned from the walks covered by explanations of rituals and dances and so on. The attack Jon had suffered all that time ago, before he'd begun to harness the force of the Great Spirit, convinced him it was a wise decision.

Who should he seek out? Jon had mostly tried to avoid Noah Crow's Eye in this place and for the most part he had. The Cherokee elder was not to be trusted. The things he had done to Jon just because he had thought it was in Jon's best interest -- Jon didn't think the man was evil, or at least had good intentions behind his actions -- but good intentions could have dire results. If there was any trickery to be done, Jon would be doing it.

No, Noah had never mentioned the possibility of others who walked awoke in the Spirit World who weren't from the Native tribes. To seek an answer to that question, he would have to delve into someone with an understanding of things so ancient they might have come before the gods made the people into their present form. Bear, then, if he could be found at this hour -- he believed it was still quite early halfway across the world.

Now he just had to get them there. Jon considered, and decided it was a safe enough thing for him to show Nimeda.

"We are going to halfway across the world, to where the Alaskan tundra meets the frozen ice floes of the Arctic Ocean." Now that statement brought widened eyes of surprise forward. "I will imagine myself there, and at the same time imagine you coming with me. This will take some part from you. You must imagine yourself with me. Focus on my presence, and focus on being next to me."

He held his hands out to her with palms facing up. I believe it will make this easier if you take my hands and imagine yourself holding them. Feel my presence and feel my awareness." She eagerly brought her hands on top of his, her fingers gripping his own, and he could feel...yes...he could feel her presence there, so strong! Placid and calm though it was, still it threatened to dwarf his own mind. If this didn't work, he should be able to find her.

"If we become separated, please stay where you are. This is important, Nimeda. I will come to find you," he continued. "It would sadden me greatly were something to happen to you." Why had he said that? In any event, Nimeda nodded, her fingers squeezing his with eagerness and perhaps a bit of impatience. "Very well. We will go."

Jon closed his eyes and flexed his mind, imagining his destination. Snow. Cold. Whiteness. He imagined Nimeda's presence, her hands clasped in his.

Shift.

Even before he opened his eyes, the frigid cold hit him and he could still feel Nimeda's hands in his. It had worked, thankfully. He opened his eyes, released her hands and smiled at her. "Welcome to Alaska."

The cold seeped into his very bones. He should have changed their clothing before shifting. Jon imagined himself covered in a coat of thick brown leather stuffed with down with deep hood lined with fur. He quickly did the same for Nimeda, though when she put it on it changed shape, color and style at whim. It might have been better to simply imagine himself not cold, but he thought this method would be easier for Nimeda to control.

Jon looked around him, surveying the landscape. Frozen ground, blanketed with white, without a thing growing. About half a mile to the north the land gave way to broken shelves of ice and choppy water. And there --

A streaking blur on the horizon. Would it be? Yes, yes it was. Very little else was ever out here. "Bear!" Jon called out.

The blur, of white on white, was almost nauseating to focus upon. It suddenly disappeared and the sense of motion came closer. Soon, it resolved itself into a burly white wolf moving with impossible speed, churning up fresh snow with each stride.

The wolf slowed, and came to an almost playful trot, stopping a few feet from Jon and Nimeda. It was a huge one of its size. Jon noted the twinkling golden eyes and knew it was him. The wolf panted and cocked his head toward Nimeda almost in question.

"I see you, Bear," Jon said. "I hope I have not disturbed your hunting. I have brought someone to meet you."

The wolf fixed its eyes upon Nimeda, staring at her as though trying to see through her. Finally it ... shrugged, and suddenly the wolf transformed. Before them stood a huge man, at least six and a half feet tall, with burly arms and a thick chest. His skin was colored similar to Jon's and he was wrapped in a heavy seal skin and fur coat and trousers. He had slightly angled eyes and facial features. Those eyes shone the same gold as the wolf's had.

Bear laughed, a deep roar from such large chest. "You always disturb my hunts, making so much noise as you do, my friend,"
he said. But I was not hunting today, merely enjoying a run in the snow. I am at your service."


Jon turned to Nimeda. "Nimeda, this is Bear-Who-Runs-On-Ice. He is a member of the Inuit tribes, and walks the Spirit World in harmony with the animals, particularly wolves, who manifest themselves here."

He turned to Bear. "I have found Nimeda walking the Spirit World awake with little memory of why she is here or how the world works. She is the first one I have found not of our peoples, and I was hoping you would know more than I about how this is possible, and how she can exist here safely."

[Thalia]

Why had she never thought about these things? Nimeda watched and listened with interest, though her internal logic was battling less with understanding what he told her and more with puzzling over why it seemed so familiar. Thinking like this was akin to swimming against a tide, and it made her limbs feel heavy as lead, her mind sluggish and tired. Do I know you? Something tickled, faintly; something, something. She’d still been acclimatising when he’d stumbled upon her, but if she knew him from the waking world then surely he would have recognised her. He hadn’t, which meant the possibility was unlikely. Then what? It was bewildering, but the mystery didn’t really bother her. It was something to pick at, to prod curiously to discover what was yielded. Then forget.

She was easily distracted. Half way across the world? Half way across the world? Her eyes lit generously with surprise, quickly blooming to excitement, and maybe she didn’t quite focus on what he said next – though she needed no coaxing to offer her hands. Her gaze fixed quite firmly on his; as firm and confidant as the grip of her fingers. She was inured to this place; she didn’t fear getting lost, and she trusted him anyway - had no reason not to - so though his warnings did pierce her consciousness, and on some level she probably understood, she was more eager to get going than to pay attention to cautionary advice.

At his last words, a hum of amused laughter left her throat, though whether that was for the instruction that she stay where she was if they were separated or for the admission that he didn’t want anything to happen to her was unclear. Nothing untoward would happen, she was sure of that; or at least that if it did it would not be able to overwhelm her. There was a time when -- the memory recoiled before it touched more than shadows on her mind, though for a second she was soured by an engulfing sense of hubris. Weird. Rather than dwelling she nodded, and squeezed Jon’s fingers. Comfort, trust, impatience. It seemed to do the trick.

He closed his eyes and she mirrored, focusing on the warmth of his hands.

Shift

The cold bit into her skin, though the feeling faded once she opened her eyes; it was an intuitive reaction, to simply adjust her perceptions to be comfortable in her environment. The snow was not real, and its affects were a matter of expectation. It was probably symptomatic of her unusually ambiguous connection to the waking world that her first inclination was to imagine herself warm rather than to change her exterior to suit - not that it was something she even paused to consider. She spun on her heel, absorbing all the frigid white, barely noticing that her clothing did indeed change – nor how it then shifted and altered around her to whim. Who lives in a place like this?

It was only when Jon called out that her ponderous examination of their new surroundings ended, and she twisted back full circle. She didn’t see anything at first, until the blur shifted closer, and she watched curiously as it bombarded toward them.

A wolf.

It was beginning to tax, all this newness that was not newness but was. She’d been alone a long time before today. When she tried to look back, her memories - such as they were - spanned back an eternity, so deeply stretched to the horizon that for a moment she felt quite dizzy. But recently, recently this place had been quiet, and she’d grown used to the solitude, she supposed. He stared, this wolf called Bear; like he was trying to twist her inside out. It should have been discomforting, but all she could think about was whether he would be offended if she tangled her fingers in the white fur of his ruff. It looked so soft and dense. Probably he would snap her arm off before she got close, though. The thick gloves on her hands melted in and out a few times before staying solid.

Then the wolf shimmered and reassembled into the shape of a man. It felt like her gaze travelled an awful long way up before she met those bright gold eyes. Nimeda pushed her fur hat – a traditional Russian ushanka – up her brow a little, and offered a smile. Predictably, by now, she was unfazed by what she saw, though this time she was also quietly contemplative. Something about this man pressed down hard on her mind; heavy and blunt as a warning cuff to the head. Not a memory exactly, and not elicited by him specifically. She had never been here, of that she was more-or-less certain. She had seen gold eyes framed by other faces, though.

"You’re not the same as Jon." She tugged her scarf away from her mouth to speak. It sounded like she meant his eyes, like a child proudly pointing out the difference between colours blue and red - and it was a true enough distinction - but her understanding for once ran deeper than a brief skim across the surface. Her gaze broke to scan the horizon, and for a second she couldn't even recall what she looked for. Bear's kind are not always alone. Her presence here had not always been good, and the wolves were old, eternal things. She didn't know that exactly, but she felt it, and she wondered how good their memories were; how well they might or might not understand her legacy here. More importantly, she wondered if she could pull herself from this place on command. If she had to.

Numbness eased the thought away, reasserting a calm tide of acceptance. The lingering hint of scrutiny in her expression smoothed to an eager smile, sparking new light in her grey eyes. She still remembered what Bear was, but the rest - the brief flare of concern - had faded, replaced by her usual affability. "Jon chose my name," she told Bear conversationally. "It means something, though I can't remember what." She looked at Jon briefly, as though trying to pluck that memory from the rest. Truthfully she probably could have, if she'd cared enough to expend the effort. Instead she grinned ruefully. The wolves would have given Bear his moniker, and some understanding of that had probably prompted her words. Like most of her small insights, it wasn't one she gave any depth of consideration. She turned to survey the landscape again, quite clearly awed by the acres of white. Silence would travel for miles, here. "How did you two even meet here?"


Edited by Thalia, Aug 21 2013, 12:48 PM.

[Jon Little Bird]

Jon turned his head to the left -and up - to meet Bear's eyes as Nimeda spoke to him. He imagined the slightest bit of pressure on Bear's shoulders as she mentioned the name Jon had given her. His friend -- at least Jon thought of Bear as a friend, and had no reason to believe otherwise, they had shared many secrets and there was a sense of mutual reliance and trust between the two -- would know what the name meant, and at least suspect why Jon had chosen it for her.

Too much knowledge of the future can lead to disaster. Those were words spoken to him by Noah Crow's Eye, one of the few things Jon took to heart. It was certainly one of the reasons Jon tried to avoid the man when he could; the actions Noah sometimes took when directed by his visions of the future often threatened to pull others along a path of Noah's choosing. Also Jon was half convinced the ability to see the future had driven Noah crazy long ago, his moorings to the present loosened by foreknowledge of what was to come. It made the man dangerous in his own way.

If Jon's suspicions were right, Nimeda had similar abilities as well. The name was meant in part to remind Jon of this should he grow too comfortable. But he didn't want any of it revealed to her yet, especially when he hadn't even begun to unravel the mystery she presented him. There was that ... affinity that lingered and bespoke of something entirely different in her from Jon's knowledge of those who walked awake in the Spirit World.

Perhaps as Nimeda became more familiar, that particular gift would manifest itself in less harmful ways, and be put to use differently, or even not at all. But still, Jon could hardly deal with one Noah, let alone two, so best not to chance it for now and let the present speak for itself.

Bear caught Jon's eye and a small twinkle, almost imperceptible, flashed into existence from the man's gold iris and vanished so quickly Jon almost thought he had imagined it. The giant man turned to Nimeda. Ever the epitome of politeness and manners, he bowed his head and gave her a gentle handshake. Nimeda's hand was enveloped completely by Bear's huge fist; the disparity in size was so great it was comical.

"I am pleased to meet you,"
Bear said to Nimeda. Nimeda. The star dancer. That is a very old name indeed, even if poorly translated."


Bear released Nimeda's hand and turned to Jon, giving Jon a hearty clap on the shoulder. It always bothered Jon when people did that. He knew it was a social convention of friendliness and nothing more, but it still felt a bit demeaning to Jon as it tended to bring attention to his smaller form. "Your understanding of the Hopi dialect is a little rusty, friend,"
Bear said to him with a booming chuckle.

Yes, Bear definitely knew.

Jon decided it was time to change the subject. "You wanted to know how we know each other," Jon said. "We have known each other for quite some time, now. In the waking world Bear is a representative for the Inuits to the Council of Native Americans. He and I have a professional relationship stemming from --

Bear laughed again, his roar echoing across the frozen landscape. Jon reflected it was good to have someone in his life who seemed so at peace with himself and the world that he could always find something to be merry about. Bear's sense of balance in some way helped keep some semblance of balance in Jon's life. A reminder not to take living so seriously all the time. It was good to have a friend in Bear.

"No, no, Jon. That won't do. She wants to know how we met here. Shall I tell her?"


This was going to be a bit embarrassing. Well, it was a funny story. "Go on," Jon replied.

Bear created a wooden stool sized to accommodate his great body, really more of a small dining table than a stool, and sat upon it. This brought him about eye level with Jon and Nimeda. "This was long before we were associated with the CNA - Jon was still in law school - I had a dream that someone was walking the Spirit World, visiting a library."


Jon and Bear exchanged glances. They both knew, having discussed their meeting in later talks, that Noah had done something to cause the dreams that had led them to meet. Why Noah had wanted Jon and Bear to know each other was completely unknown. Jon had been similarly plagued with dreams of a giant white wolf just before their meeting. Which had probably led to Jon's reaction to their first meeting.

Bear continued: "I took the form of the wolf and went to look for him. Sure enough I found him reading books in a library. He didn't notice me right away so I sat right in front of him until he finally looked up from his reading -"


Bear started laughing again, doubling over and holding his sides. He struggled to get out the rest of his story: "-He saw the wolf - in front - of him - and - screamed - and - vanished - and -"


Jon put his hands over his face, which was turning quite red. "Just tell her, Bear," he groaned.

Bear struggled to draw a breath and was having difficulty staying seated. "-He appeared hanging from the chandelier!"
He clapped Jon on the back again. "And he was so unsettled he couldn't figure how to get back down!"


Jon groaned as laughter rang out over the frozen tundra. The story wasn't that funny. Obviously Bear had a different opinion on the matter, and Nimeda certainly found it amusing.

Bear continued to laugh, and suddenly seized Jon in a playful headlock. At first Jon thought it was just more ribbing to be recieved from his friend, but the man whispered into Jon's ear: "You've chosen a fine one to tangle yourself with with, Jon. A fine one, indeed."


Jon tapped Bear's tree-trunk-thick arm in acknowledgment. Clearly Bear didn't want Nimeda to know of this conversation and was using the brevity as an excuse to get Jon close enough to say what he needed to.

A simple trick of focus in this place prevented words from traveling farther than one intended them to, surely as soundproof walls. Jon made sure to employ this unnoticeable trick as he was sure Bear had done the same. They would look as two buddies sharing words in a friendly tussle.

"I feel a connection with her. She has such strength of will as I've never seen in this place," Jon whispered back.

Bear ruffled Jon's hair. Was that really necessary? "The wolves have been watching her. There is something about her that is rooted in their past. What exactly it is, I don't quite understand. But keep her close. She will grow in familiarity with the Spirit World and your aid could mean the difference between her being an ally or an enemy."


Jon struggled to keep shock from his face. Nimeda had been here before and the wolves had been watching her in the Spirit World? And Jon was supposed to keep close to her. Doing so was certainly not a thought that troubled him, indeed he was finding himself liking her company, but Bear's words added to what had already transpired tonight -- he had to remind himself again Nimeda did not think or act as he did -- was enough to give him pause.

Jon tapped Bear's arm again. Perhaps in helping Nimeda find what answers she was looking for, Jon could get some answers himself. In any event, having his head wrapped in Bear's arm was getting quite uncomfortable.

Bear released his hold on Jon and turned to Nimeda. "Where are my manners. I get carried away sometimes. Perhaps you have other questions?"



Edited by Jon Little Bird, Aug 26 2013, 02:17 AM.

[Thalia]

Nimeda was amused by the engulfing handshake, so very gentle considering it would not have been hard for him to crush her hand completely. He was extremely polite, though she didn’t quite understand everything he said. Poorly translated? It didn’t occur to her to ask for an explanation; she was satisfied with her name after all, whatever it meant. In fact it was a gift she planned to cherish, supposing she remembered it when next she woke in this place. Nim-e-da. Nim-e-da. It flowed nicely, like the pleasing, lazy rush of waves. She liked it.

Her attention blinked back when Bear clapped Jon all brother-like on the shoulder, and she listened to Jon’s explanation raptly, without ever taking note that it wasn’t what she’d asked. It didn’t really matter. She was content to listen and let the words paint pictures, irrespective of what the words were or what pictures they painted. Representative. Council. Professional. It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech, else Jon was simply accustom to speaking in such a formal way. Then Bear’s laughter boomed like a boulder dropped amidst her thoughts, squashing them, and her gaze flickered between the two curiously. She didn’t expend much energy trying to fathom their silent communications; it was clear the two were close, and their camaraderie was soothing rather than alienating. She was happy to watch.

Dreams. They spoke of dreams again. Dreams and meaning. It stoked a sense of affinity that settled not entirely comfortably in her chest. She saw things, sometimes. Lately she dreamt of change, so much change, simmering slowly but steadily towards… well, she didn’t know, not exactly, but she suddenly realised this meeting was probably not as incidental as it seemed. That things were changing, even on this small scale. The epiphany rose and faded like all the rest, and inwardly she shrugged. Whatever she glimpsed was of little matter; she went willingly wherever fate dictated.

Bear seemed to struggle to speak, then, like mirth had pushed all the air from his lungs. Stifled by that raucous laughter it was hard at first to discern his words, though the gist was clear enough. His joviality was infectious and prompted first an amused smile then laughter of her own, though she bit her lip and stifled it, not very successfully, when she saw how red Jon had blushed beneath his hands. He seemed sporting enough, though, despite his embarrassment: he told Bear to go on.

She stumbled back a bit, grinning but not wanting to be caught up in the two’s play-fighting. Jon all but disappeared under Bear’s huge bulk, and Nimeda was laughing so hard tears beaded in her eyes and she buried her face in her hands. Her skin was flushed when she surfaced, still smiling broadly, trying desperately not to succumb to the image of such a huge man as Bear clutching his sides and rolling with laughter, or of Jon gripping on to a chandelier, but at least able to breathe as Bear ruffled Jon’s hair and eventually let him go.

"Questions? Oh." Her laughter slowly calmed, and she looked briefly at Jon, as though in doing so a bulb might switch on in her head. Of general curiosities, she had many; but they were all the inane kind, and the answers would probably slip in and out of her mind like sand through fingers. Of herself? Well, she knew her presence was unusual because Jon had told her so. She would assist in whatever way she could to allow him to unravel the mystery, but at the same time there was reticence. Uncertainty. Now where had that come from?

"Jon’s been showing me how to stay safe here. I nearly--" She trailed off, considering - not the way the world had nearly de-materialised around them, but that faint moment of recognition she had felt in the midst of it. "Did you know Bear would be here? Was it a guess, or is there some way to tell?" Though she initially addressed Jon, the question was aimed at either of them. There was earnestness in the gaze that travelled between them, and it wasn't difficult to guess the motivation behind the question.

[Jon Little Bird]

As the levity of the moment passed, Jon took note of Nimeda's question. Whimsical, ephemeral though she seemed -- yes, there was an inkling of purpose building there. Was that what Bear had meant when he said she would grow in familiarity in the Spirit World?

And now she clearly wanted to know how to find one of them, or the other, in the Spirit World should she come again. Definitely purpose behind that question. That could be a good thing -- especially if Jon was supposed to keep her close. It could also mean she would learn how to seek either of them out when she became purposeful and lucid in this place, and perhaps less friendly.

Bear's warning bore down on Jon. He shot a quick glance at Bear, who shrugged. Up to you bud, you're the smart one the glance seemed to say. Very well, if Bear was going to pass the buck, Jon would take it up and interpret the best course of action. In this case it meant wanting Nimeda to seek one of them out if she was to come here again. If others not of the Native blood could come here, the Great Spirit alone knew what else might seek her out, and potentially influence her in malicious ways.

Jon turned to look Nimeda in her eyes, which still bore a hint of mirth at Bear's tale. It really wasn't that funny.

"I do have a good idea where to find my friend by chance in the event he is here, knowing him well as I do," Jon began. "However, this is not completely necessary. In the Spirit World your thoughts can... he paused. How should he word the explanation? This was tricky, if she didn't understand properly it could spell disaster. He took a breath: "You can think about something you need to find, or sometimes someone, and send yourself there just as we came here." That should be straightforward enough. "You can even focus on a need you have and allow the Spirit World to interpret what you are looking for, and send yourself to it. Be careful though, as in doing so you may be jumping blindly into potentially unwelcome surroundings."

Should he say more? Jon glanced at Bear again, who just shrugged again. Great help he was at the moment. Noah, Jon mouthed wordlessly to his friend, who cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly. Yes, it might be best to tell her how to avoid being sought out, even though it would give her an opportunity to hide from Jon or Bear or the wolves who had already been watching her -- those Jon was certain were of the mind to help Jon in this task to keep her close.

He turned again to Nimeda, who seemed fascinated in the instructions Jon was laying out. "There are also things you can do to help keep yourself from being found out in this place by another, possibly in the event arises your safety demands it. It helps to move yourself to a place you are not expected to be found, and if need be you can...' Again the words failed him. It was not a thing of words, or emotions, but pure physical thought, directed in a specific way, he was trying to describe. This was not something he'd found himself having to explain before. He would have to do his best with the tools given him.

"You can set your thoughts upon the Spirit World and ... I have no better way to describe it but 'mask' your presence is the best I can do. You can always send yourself away to another place here, but can be followed unless you do this. It does not work perfectly, even with the strongest of wills..." Yes, even with the strength of her will she probably wouldn't be able to completely hide from another..."And in any event if you are present here, even if you are hiding, someone could still visually locate you if he or she was determined enough to search for long enough."

That would have to do. With luck it would provide Nimeda enough instruction to avoid the worst of dangers here, and give her an idea how to seek out Jon, or someone friendly to Jon, if she came here again. If she found herself in danger, she should be able to find one of them, especially as Jon wasn't going to be trying to mask his presence from her anytime soon.


Edited by Jon Little Bird, Aug 29 2013, 02:02 PM.

[Thalia]

She asked a simple question, but Jon offered a whole wealth of information – after a moment’s hesitation and a glance at Bear, anyway. Once again it was laced with warnings, and once again she found herself not quite able to understand why that was necessary. This time he spoke not of her own actions causing harm, but of the malicious intent of others. What others? As though she took it literally, her gaze razed the frozen tundra. As far as she knew, Jon and Bear were the only cognizant people she had met here, and she did not feel like she would ever have need to hide from either of them. She realised others entered this Spirit World too - whether she came across them or not - but why would they mean her harm?

Dull memories swum beneath the surface of her thoughts, none of them potent enough to fully distract her. Her head tilted as she listened, as if trying to piece together his explanation with the fuzzy awareness within – but however close it felt she came, it was fruitless work. Eventually she shrugged it off. If she was looking, if she thought to look - and that was the problem - she was fairly sure she would be able to find him. Those who walked with awareness here had a distinctive feel to them, and if she could not say why her familiarity with Jon transcended the brief forming of her opinion here-and-now, his presence was already distinctive. More so than with Bear, although possibly she could find him too. Difficult to say until she tried.

A good enough answer.

“Okay.” She nodded as the information sunk in, and then her expression cleared and she grinned. Her mind stretched almost to capacity negotiating the unique pitfalls of her thought processes, but like elastic it snapped back quickly. Her curiosity was sated, at least insofar as the subject of herself was concerned, and her head was left bouncing full of new ideas to consider – but she was of no mind to contemplate it now. Nimeda was whimsical, like a butterfly flittering from flower to flower, which perhaps made her switch of subject seem random. But she was just going back to a flower that had caught her eye. A mischievous glint lit her expression, though it was not malicious. “Is that what you do here? Read?” She meant the library, of course, in which he had met Bear. Her gaze flickered to the other man, full of mirth. “And hunt?”

[Jon Little Bird]

Jon had hardly finished speaking when he felt -- something, almost intangible, like the weight of the shadow of a cloud upon calm waters, or the memory of an echo -- reverberate gently against his consciousness. Gentle, yes, but purposeful. Yes, Nimeda was feeling out his presence, or perhaps Jon had merely become self-aware of the distinctive feel of the presence she had been projecting the entire time. He found it oddly comforting and felt himself drawn to it - her - in fascination. It was like...gentle laughter in the distance.

Jon found himself so immersed in contemplation that he nearly missed what Nimeda said next. Fortunately Bear gave Jon a little nudge.

"One would think reading was all Jon did when I first saw him here,"
his friend said.

In a way, that was true. It was the first purpose for which Jon had found the Spirit World useful. Having the ability to research anything he needed, the extra time to do it, even the ability to spy into the private notes of professors and noted colleagues of the legal field -- not to mention opponents' work -- had proved an invaluable tool for one determined to propel himself as fast as he possibly could out of the academic circus and into stardom.

"It's amazing how fast someone can complete his studies when he has an extra six to eight hours each day during which to work," Jon added, feeling like he owed some sort of explanation to why he would go to sleep to read. "The body doesn't actually get any real rest while one is walking here, though. I learned that fairly quickly."

Bear chuckled and turned back to Nimeda. "Jon has seen wonders the world over, as I have as well, moving with but a thought, no people in our way, no guards to bar entrance to the most secretive of places. Stand atop of the world, or explore a forgotten tomb."


Yes, it had been within that forgotten Mayan temple, the pyramid so old it wasn't even recognizable as such, just a looming, pointed hill buried by forestation, where Jon had found one of the final keys to unlocking the puzzle of how to wield the power of the Great Spirit with purpose and control. Deep within the bowels of the place, a grand chamber stood completely sealed away from the external world -- only reachable because Jon was able to imagine a safe entrance. It had also taken a lot of useless probing of mounds that were just mounds, and that was after he'd found the approximate location from writings based on local rumor.

That was where he'd seen the fresco -- the oddly garbed man at the center of...threads of color, as they came into him they mingled and lost definition, and from his hands...strands of white, red, blue, yellow, intertwining with one another, forming...lightning. Fireballs. Whirlwinds. Wondrous things of awesome and terrible force. Yes. That had been the answer Jon had been looking for for how to do things when in command of the Great Spirit. The power was woven throughout all things, and the elements were the threads, and the medicine man in command of the power had to pull it through himself and weave the disparate forces together to alter the waking world.

Odd that Bear should mention exploring a tomb. Jon had never told Bear about that. Bear knew nothing about Jon's ability to wield the Great Spirit and Jon was not about to tell him anything that would give that away.

Bear was still speaking to Nimeda: " I hunt here only for sport and companionship with the wolves. It is a thing of the wolves to hunt to strengthen the bond of the pack. Here I can actually take their form. But we hunt only for the thrill of the chase. The wolves believe it is a terrible thing to kill an animal who runs in the Spirit World."


Some of that still puzzled Jon. Bear had told him that some of the wolves who ran here were spirits of wolves who had died in the waking world. So far, that made sense. This was the Spirit World, after all. Obviously it wasn't a manifestation of the afterlife for people here, else he would likely see a multitude of spirits. But how could a spirit in this place die again, with no body in the waking world to sever the spirit from? And where would that spirit go?

Jon cleared his throat. Not that he actually needed to, but only as a polite means of re-entering the conversation.

"It is a very useful thing for us to be able to meet with one another here, separated by great distances in the waking world. Myself, Bear and a few others from our peoples can share news and discuss things away from the prying eyes of any in the waking world."

And then there was the other way of communication. Bringing up dreams would skirt dangerously close to talk of prophecy he'd so far managed to avoid. But also knowledge of the existence of others' dreams here might help Nimeda steer clear of the dangers they could present.

"Here, you can also find the dreams of those who are asleep, and speak to them -- send them messages. If they have sufficient understanding, they will remember what you say to them when they wake up, or enter the Spirit World from their dreams to meet with you. This is another way you could find one of us -- if we are sleeping but not walking awake in this place."

Jon silently laughed at himself. He really did talk too much. It was fascinating how Nimeda managed to be so engaging and able to draw out such conversation from him, when she herself said so little.

[Thalia]

Jon came here to study? She found the thought amusing, and it showed in her slightly puzzled expression. Study what? The possibility had never really occurred to her, how time spent here might be used to inform someone's waking life - that choosing to enter the Spirit World could be used to serve a purpose at all. Why did she come here? Accidently, surely; she did not even understand the process, let alone have control over it. Memory buzzed, but the consideration was slippery enough to find little purchase for long. Instead she nodded to Bear's words, as if she understood; which, in that moment she did. A place of souls. Both respect and caution encompassed her inherent reaction to talk of wolves, a sentiment ancient as roots dug deep into old, old earth. Nobody had explained the nature of wolfkin to her, but she knew the bonds he spoke of - as much as any outsider could, anyway.

Dreams she also understood, on an intrinsic level. Sometimes, on the verge of waking here, she was instead tugged another direction; a place of in-between, vast as the night sky, where every star glittered as a doorway. Some of the faces there were familiar; a woman, in particular, with features not so different from the ones she wore these days herself. A name dulled the end of her tongue, but wouldn't reveal itself - not beyond the dream, anyway. Others were less recognisable, and occasionally a new face revealed itself. Usually she only observed, distant, curious - and on rare occasion with an odd sense of guardianship. Sometimes she interfered. Rarest of all was when the choice was stolen, and she passed the threshold whether she willed it or not.

"Or you could find me," she added matter-of-factly. "If you wanted to." Once again, when she was done thinking through the things he told her, her thoughts circled back to her original question. A small frown crinkled her brow with the effort, then smoothed itself. Study. His sombre attire painted a serious picture, but he didn't look like a student. At least she didn't think so; it was hard to muddle through such deductions. "Did I interrupt you? Before. You were dressed like a... like a... scout, or something." A smile lit her expression, though if she was teasing it was with pleasant enough intent. If Jon came here with purpose, then she had utterly diverted him. "What do you study? It must be hard work if you need to read in your sleep too."

[Jon Little Bird]

Or you could find me if you wanted to. Jon considered Nimeda's words. An invitation, perhaps, and a welcome one at that.

"I think I would very much like to see you again," he said to her. "Here or in the waking world."

He considered her question, and chuckled about his choice of garb when he first went to find the source of the noise he'd heard. A silly thing, really. Choice of clothing was pretty meaningless here when a thought could alter one's surroundings, or send one away to safety. "If it was a disturbance, it was a fortunate one," he said to her. "I am a legal advocate and in the waking world am travelling to Moscow. I am filing a lawsuit in the morning. But as I am already well prepared, this is a welcome diversion from work while my body sleeps on a very long and boring transatlantic flight."

Jon wondered how much time had passed since he'd first come here. He knew the flow of time differed from the waking world, but it wasn't so dissimilar that an hour here would translate to an entire night. At least he didn't think so. His plane probably hadn't even reached the halfway point of its flight.

Where was Nimeda in the waking world? Jon wondered if she was as oblivious of her own identity there as she was here. Perhaps she'd suffered some sort of accident and this affected her memory here as well as there. She had been here before, of that Bear was certain. Jon certainly hoped that wasn't the case for her sake. It was a terrible thing to lose one's memory. His Sooyee hadn't been able to remember his own name, at the end, let alone who Jon was...the Alzheimer's should have been treatable had the reservation been able to attract competent enough doctors.

"I wonder if there would be a way to meet as well in the waking world," Jon said to Nimeda. "Do you remember -- anything -- of yourself or where you were when you went to sleep?"