It did not take too long for the vermin scavengers of Dreamland to leak into the real world from the Dreamweaver’s trail. She had been mildly anticipating them, but did not expect them to arrive so soon. How they had squeezed through the crack in surreality and reality was beyond her, but here they were.
The Dreamweaver stood in a large mess hall within the fortress. The ceilings were high and the lights cast a pale white light on the stony floors. A young man was on the ground, passed out with his eyes open and rolled back in terror. Perhaps she had gone too far with his nightmare, but his fear hardly sustained the ever-hungry nightmare. She had begun to realize that the longer she lingered in reality, the more ravenous she became. A simple night terror effect was no longer enough to satiate her for more than a few hours to a short day. No, she needed more.
Or maybe, it was that she had recently been forced to share her prey-- at least upon this recent meal of the young man’s negative energy. The green eyes of the blonde glared out the corners to spot a mild ‘shimmer’ of the air. “I should have expected you all sooner,” she spoke, a mildly irritated smirk coming to her features. With a small burst of her own surreal energy, the disguise of invisibility was removed from the three feline beasts.
They smiled sheepishly at the Dreamweaver as their disguise was knocked away and began to float up towards the blonde-haired woman. The felines all had small manes of fur on their head, a chest, shoulders, and torso covered in thick fur, and a tuft of thick hair on their tail tips. The two males had vertical stripes over their eyes, three horizontal stripes on their forelegs, and four ringed stripes on their tails. One of them, the Dreamweaver instantly recognized. He had followed her once before, and she had grown to know him even by name. “Netsil,” she greeted, eyeing the black Nachtmyrr with a green mane and stripes and vivid sapphire eyes. “Who are your friends?”
She was not overly fond of the lesser nightmares, of course, but it was almost pleasant to finally have some company of her own kind here in the lonely reality. “This is Ryssa,” the dark-furred Nachtmyrr said with a silky purr, nodding towards the pale blue female with no stripes and gray eyes. “And this is Scyri, a regent among Nachtmyrr,” Netsil added, flicking his head towards the dark purple feline with lavender stripes and striking pink eyes. The trio floated around the blonde, surrounding her and inspecting her with curiosity.
“What are you doing here, Alwe?” Netsil asked, hovering right in front of the Dreamweaver’s human face. He was instantly silenced with a glare and sharp voice. “That name is not to be said here. At least, not yet. Here you may call me Veronika in this form.”
[497]