23
Wilt knew he was dreaming, but he didn’t care. He could feel Daemi’s hand in his, hear her breath moving in and out of her lungs, see the steam rise from her lips as the living warmth blew into the cold night air. He lay perfectly still, not wanting to do anything that would cause the dream to end.
A sudden breeze blew through the campsite, turning the low burning coals of the campfire a deep orange, and wiping the dream away. With it came another vision, a wall of trees swaying in the wind, beckoning him, lulling him into other dreams, other minds.
A shadowed figure flitting in and out of the dappled sunlight of the forest, moving impossibly quickly, patrolling its borders, hunting out that which did not belong.
A shimmering weld wall, a lone young Black Robe standing before it, re
