I dream I kneel at his feet, head bowed, presenting the drum and wolf bone beater. My hands are stained red as the drum skin from hours with the dye.
I dream I gouge my face. Tear out one eye. She that is me yet not nods her approval. I see clearer one eyed and bloodied.
I dream the little red fox and the great black wolf dance round the fire. There is no joy yet they dance on.
I dream of a man with hair impossibly dark and skin impossibly pale. He wear clothes thoroughly modern yet carries a blade so obviously ancient.
I dream of the Ancestors land. Of the old warrior with the white hair and swirling blue tattoos. He still sits beneath the dead white tree on deep red dust.
I blink… In his place now stands a young man with hair as copper as mine though he wears the elders tattoos. He leans on his spear, standing beneath the white tree now green with foliage.
I blink… He is gone. The great black wolf stands wrapped in his furs, eyes hollow and hard. The tree is shattered and charred as if hit by lightning.
I dream of the City shrouded in twilight and of it’s inhabitants. They are waiting.
I dream of this place. Of the future. Of orchards and laughter.
I dream of the little red fox dancing with the great black wolf. A dance bloody and violent.
These are snippets. I barely have a night without vivid dreams at the moment.