Nick "Nicodemus" Dalton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nick_garou) wrote2014-07-27 07:49 am
nick_garou) wrote2014-07-27 07:49 am
Entry tags:
A weird dream/vision
A young Native American woman stands before you, smiling in welcome. She can't be more than twenty or so, but she has long black hair with white streaks at the temples, and she is wearing a beautiful dress in the traditional style, though the bead work seems to be somewhat different from the Yakama. She spreads her arms in your direction and begins to dance barefoot in the long yellow grass, whirling and leaping, silently laughing.
Beyond her you catch a glimpse of the mighty Columbia, a winding silver snake in the sunlight, and dotted along its banks you can make out the smoke of many campfires and the sound of laughter and singing. The woman beckons you to follow even as she continues to dance, and the two of you start walking toward the nearest river encampment. She twirls more, and black feathers fall from the sleeves of her dress, swirling in the breeze and dotting your path. You catch the whiff of cooking salmon and the raucous call of water birds.
Then all is light and fire. In an instant you're deafened to any noise, and you watch as a massive but entirely silent wave of force and power sweeps over the river, the grasses and the encampments. You see villagers, dwellings, and trees disintegrate into nothing as it touches them. Animals burn in twisted mockery of the joyful dance from before. You stand untouched in a gray wasteland where all is ash and silence, and you choke when you try to breath.
The woman stands before you, still clad in her beautiful but now tattered and singed dress. Her face is barely more than a skull, with sunken black eyes and skin stretched tightly over her bones. Black hair with a hint of white still clings in small clumps to her scalp, and skeletal arms hug each other. Feathers still drift between you. "Find me," she whispers.
The world goes black and cold, and you wake up shivering.
In talking with Slug last Friday, I realized I wasn't the only one who'd had this vision. Grand.
Beyond her you catch a glimpse of the mighty Columbia, a winding silver snake in the sunlight, and dotted along its banks you can make out the smoke of many campfires and the sound of laughter and singing. The woman beckons you to follow even as she continues to dance, and the two of you start walking toward the nearest river encampment. She twirls more, and black feathers fall from the sleeves of her dress, swirling in the breeze and dotting your path. You catch the whiff of cooking salmon and the raucous call of water birds.
Then all is light and fire. In an instant you're deafened to any noise, and you watch as a massive but entirely silent wave of force and power sweeps over the river, the grasses and the encampments. You see villagers, dwellings, and trees disintegrate into nothing as it touches them. Animals burn in twisted mockery of the joyful dance from before. You stand untouched in a gray wasteland where all is ash and silence, and you choke when you try to breath.
The woman stands before you, still clad in her beautiful but now tattered and singed dress. Her face is barely more than a skull, with sunken black eyes and skin stretched tightly over her bones. Black hair with a hint of white still clings in small clumps to her scalp, and skeletal arms hug each other. Feathers still drift between you. "Find me," she whispers.
The world goes black and cold, and you wake up shivering.
In talking with Slug last Friday, I realized I wasn't the only one who'd had this vision. Grand.