Cato's eyes fluttered open. He found himself lying on his back, in the clearing of perpetual night once more. The trees which lined the clearing were charred. The forest beyond stretched toward the horizon. A low growl caught Cato's attention. He turned to see the wolf perched on the stone altar, the golden Aquila in its mouth. Cato felt a presence watching him from the trees.
“Another dream messenger?" He chuckled, rising to his feet. “Don't you have other mere mortals to keep you company? It shouldn't be hard with your figure."
The messenger stepped into Cato's view. Her figure was accented by a flowing silk robe. It was so thin you could almost see right through it. Her sultry gait awakened his lower desires.
“If it were any other man, I would say you are glad to see me," The messen
