Dreams - Dayna and Lauren (reading e books .txt) 📗

my social skills, seeing as some topics seem to upset certain others…”
His insight on dreams was very interesting, however. Especially on nightmares…she still couldn’t see how anything happening at night could ever be dangerous or fearsome. Night was so…calm…intriguing…mysterious…In fact, none of those words was fully able to describe how wonderful it was. She ducked under a thick vine, absorbed in her thoughts as she made her way absentmindedly through the dense forest.
Chinook finally reached the beach, leisurely clambering out of the bushes. She resumed her position on the unstable outcrop, gazing pensively out at the ocean. A vicious wind had gusted in, whipping up the water and sending great bulging waves crashing against the shoreline. Dark, tempestuous clouds were gathering in the west, and while the sun’s rays were still peeking bravely over the horizon in the east, Chinook knew they would quickly be smothered. She thumped her tail on the weathered rock in anticipation. A storm was just what this isle needed—a change. She jumped up excitedly and dashed back and forth across the beach, watching the clouds roll rapidly across the sky.

Shaking uncontrollably from head to tail, Fanyare skidded to a stop, whimpering. What had he done? That had been so stupid! Why did he have to run away? He had potentially lost a friend, the first and perhaps last being he would meet on this desolate island, that’s what he’d done.
Trembling, Fanyare sank to the ground beneath a large banana tree. His ears folded back in submission as he gazed up at the merciless black clouds gathering overhead in a vast and endless sky. Now he felt lonelier than ever, with nothing but the crude memories that had been reawakened inside him as company. In his mind’s eye he could see perfectly Chinook’s sleek form dashing through the trees before him, her sparkling eyes when Fanyare had stumbled upon her lying at the base of his tree.
Suddenly a jolt of emotional pain raked the wolf’s body as memories of a dark past clawed their way past the memories of Chinook, shoving her roughly aside as though she was a meaningless fragment. A growl rose in Fanyare’s throat, his eyes squeezed shut in defiance and his muscles tensed as he fought to resist. No. He had gone through this once; he wasn’t going to let the monsters of his past tear him down again. He wasn’t about to let them plunge him into that dark abyss of sadness and make him forget about Chinook. Chinook. He had to find Chinook, to make things right.
Fanyare leapt to his feet, determined. A scan of the dark sky told him that he didn’t have much time before Chinook’s scent would be washed away, along with any hope of him ever finding her. The black wolf broke into a run, streaking through rustling trees that celebrated the oncoming rain, anticipating a replenishing shower. Fanyare dashed back the way he had come as if there was no tomorrow, desperately hoping Chinook hadn’t yet left, yearning to see her silvery form once more.
To Fanyare’s dismay, a single droplet landed on the tip of his nose, a small, wet whisperer of failure. Resolute, Fanyare pushed himself to go yet faster. He did not want to admit it, but that one drop slowly became more and more drops until it was finally pouring down rain. The clouds raged overhead, the atmosphere uttered its booming bellow of dominance, and lightning forked the sky.
Little by little doubt began to sink in, but still Fanyare raced. It wasn’t until he arrived at the familiar line of trees that he finally accepted defeat. Emerald eyes darted this way and that, seeking the shape of the wolf he had come for as he slowed to a trot at a break in the trees. Chinook was nowhere to be seen anywhere near the glowing pond.
An ice-cold weight filled his stomach, the horrible feeling of disappointment. Fanyare sat where he was with a splat, so wet that his dripping fur clung to his body like a mold, revealing his true size. He didn’t even bother to shake himself as he stared gloomily at the pond and the swaying willow tree at its edge. A soft whimper of sadness escaped the wolf’s throat as he sat in the collecting mud, blinking away the water that ran down his fur and into his eyes, masking a single tear that rolled despondently down his cheek.

Chinook stood at the edge of the sea. The waves lapped bitterly at her paws but she seemed not to take notice as she gazed broodingly to the east. Rampant thunderclouds raced across the sky. Rain cascaded down upon the sea, adding to its wrath, and the ocean lashed furiously at the neighboring land in a brilliant and terrible display of power. A streak of lightning slashed at the surrounding sky, illuminating the thrashing waters at her feet. Chinook slowly lifted her head and stared at the unbridled clouds above her, an inscrutable expression etched across her features; whether it was fear, sorrow, doubt, or something entirely different, only she knew.
Lurching away from the water’s edge, she dashed along the beach and effortlessly scaled the jagged shelf close by. She sat upon the rock with an air of finality and raised her muzzle to the livid sky.
A long, mournful note resonated from Chinook’s gaping jaws and faded out into the gloom. In that solitary note, it spoke of a forgotten yet deeply troubled past.
Chinook continued with her desolate song, weaving the various pitches into an intricate melody. Shaping the song into a more jovial tone, Chinook poured into the song the very essence of her being; her contentment of simply gazing out into the tranquil waters of the sea; her excitement when she first discovered the mysterious pool, its depths beckoning to her for an unknown reason; her joy at meeting another intelligent individual anywhere within a league of here; the night and all its hidden mysteries. The notes flowed together smoothly and effortlessly, a sharp contrast to the violent gale raging around her.
Suddenly her paw slipped on the slippery stone, and her song faltered. Several rocks shook loose from the edge of the precipice and plunged into the foaming waters. Chinook’s eyes flew open in agitation, but she recovered and resumed her ceaseless howling.
The song abruptly took a different turn. No longer speaking of a placid, undisturbed lifestyle, the melody was a cry for help—of frustration at not being able to dream, and also her passionate yearning to somehow escape from this infernal island. Chinook howled to her heart’s content, letting herself be carried away by the melody. All the while the wind whipped around her, unsettling her sodden fur and joining in Chinook’s chilling song.

The sun had been out for some time now, though in Fanyare’s opinion it seemed drastically out of place. It was merely a glowing ball in the sky that seemed to mock his sorrow. Personally Fanyare wouldn’t have minded a bit if the storm clouds had remained. He would much rather have had them for company than the ebullient, sickeningly cheery sun. At least they fit right along with his mood.
Back defiantly to the pool, the black wolf was perfectly at ease to succumb to the powers as dark as his coat that were slowly reeling him in. Feeling as though he would have liked to cease to exist at that very moment, Fanyare rested a heavy head that matched a heavy heart on his front paws with a deep sigh. He had hardly allowed his eyelids to droop shut when a splash broke him out of a steadily strengthening, wallowing mire of sadness and despair that had been ever so slowly closing in triumphantly on his mind. The sludge retracted just enough for the wolf to come to his senses and to even be curious as to what had caused the disturbance.
Wait. Something was actually disturbing the flawless, seamless surface of the precious lake? Glad for a distraction and his attention finally drawn elsewhere, Fanyare turned curiously to look over his shoulder. After a moment he decided that it must not have been anything worth noticing because whatever or whoever had been the source of the disturbance seemed to have vanished.
Fanyare’s thoughts turned to Chinook. What if he could use his power to find her? But she’d have to be thinking of him, she’d have to actually want to see him too. Was she perhaps thinking of him at that instant, as he was thinking of her, reminiscing how wonderful those fleeting moments in her company had been? Fanyare shook his head sadly. Of course not. He sounded like a desperate… fool. As this revelation filled him a sigh escaped his muzzle, his eyes drooped, and his head drifted dejectedly toward his paws again.
But all the same…. An image of him running at Chinook’s side came to him, a glorious scene where happiness radiated from them like ethereal beams of light.
Fanyare suddenly felt a new wave of hope hit him and his eyes became bright. He heaved himself resolutely to his feet. His snout pulled into a snarl of determination as he readied himself for the reality of whether or not his plan would work, when a rustle in the bushes at the tree line surrounding the pond distracted his attention yet again. His eyes fell on a pair of paw-like tracks in the ground leading away from the pond.
Still bristling from the intensity of the emotions that had just overcome him, Fanyare pounced on the bush. In a matter of seconds he stood snarling over a foot-tall creature that writhed under the pressure of his great paw.
“Who are you and where did you come from? I’ve never seen you anywhere around this island,” Fanyare growled.


“Hey, can’t we all be friends?” the creature joked halfheartedly. Fanyare pressed harder and the creature fell still with a wince of pain. “A guy can’t just arrive safely on the other side of a portal anymore. What is the world coming to?”
“Portal?” Fanyare frowned, his anger slowly abating. When the creature didn’t respond he snarled, “Explain!”
“Okay, okay!” the creature said hurriedly.
“I have lived on this island long enough to know there are no portals here,” Fanyare said, eyes narrowing.
“Look, I assure you there’s a portal,” the creature began, voice full of surprise. He sounded as though he was trying not to laugh.
“Do not mock me!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just that I find it very hard to believe you never knew there was a portal here if you’ve lived on this island as long as you say you have.” To the great surprise of the creature, Fanyare grunted and removed his paw. He turned to stare out at the pond.
“Apparently I don’t know as much about this place as I thought I did,” he said in an undertone more to himself. He turned back around to see the creature getting to its feet and dusting itself off.
The creature was about a foot tall and covered in short, light green fur. Its face was a mix between a human’s and a cat’s, with two sharp teeth that curled over its bottom lip. Its eyes looked vaguely mischievous, giving it an untrustworthy look, and the creature’s body was more like a human’s so that it stood on hind legs. A longer than average tail that was twice as