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Dream, Memory, and Blood (Olkhon Island | Baikal Lake, Siberia)
#8
The wall changed before his eyes; eyes that saw more than most. What rippled new was unbelievable, but Tristan was standing in strange. His sense of believability was becoming quite broad of late. He wasn’t startled. Curious.

His gaze trailed Thalia as if her explorations were his own, but where she meant to disturb the secrets of this place, Tristan was watchful for dangers to be released. It smelled akin to the bottom of a fishing vessel, an unnatural mix of metal and sea, man and marine. There was nothing obviously dangerous. When it was revealed, he would be there to protect her.

“Aos sí? Is your amma of Írland?” He asked with a sense of awe that revealed his belief in the story. “Maybe we can find your appa after this is over? Although if he is trapped in a fairy mound, he is likely quite content to stay,” he added a reassuring smile. The lairs of the hidden folk were more comfortable than their current habitat. Appa was probably nestled on the bosom of a fae having the time of his everlasting life. That wasn’t so bad.

Another name drew his attention from imagining a lifetime ensnared in bosoms. Vanagandyr. Like that wall that faded before his eyes, another layer of reality seemed to fall around Thalia. Within that realm he found the eyes of the same girl that he made love to in the lake. He found his mouth parted, breath stolen on the lips in surprise. Nimeda? The phasing between what he saw and what he knew couldn’t be real. This place was messing with his mind. 

But where Thalia called, Tristan knew he would follow. He flicked the water from his beard and padded after.
"Don’t waste your time looking back, you’re not going that way."
Rognar Lothbrok
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RE: Dream, Memory, and Blood (Olkhon Island | Baikal Lake, Siberia) - by Tristan - 08-01-2022, 01:32 AM

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