#elenian

Of all the imagery in my Dream, the swirling colors and undulating surfaces, the ghostly brush of the Dream upon my skin, like the rustle of wind, all overpowered by the warm journey of the sun to my roots, I know that I didn't see him. I saw many things; myself, my hound, the glow of my leaves, the Pale Tree herself, and the sickness in the land that spreads like fungus and rot--I saw them all with perceptive eyes, but I didn't see him.