Before I headed to the church, I decided I would sleep in my newly-acquired apartment, as I was eager to revisit the strange dream that had vanished from the balcony (before it disappeared too deeply into sleep). As I settled upon the bed, I proudly looked upon the congealing piece that I had created earlier. With that vision behind my eyes, I drifted into slumber. Unfortunately, sleep did not bring me any closer to the desired dream, but it did manage to supply me with a glimpse of something that slept beneath the city. I saw strange coffins nestled into the dirt, waiting like monsters under a child’s bed. Far deeper into the black soil, within a stratum of earth so old it was little more than liquid darkness, I spied a casket the length of the entire city. The dream conducted my vision beyond the petrified wood of the coffin’s construction, allowing me to peer at the thing that lay within. Rotting and waiting within that damp, titanic box was an entity as ancient within the world as it was utterly alien to it. The sound of the creature's patience was bottomless and beckoning. I could only guess at what earthly death could transmit life to something so far beyond all of this blowing dust. I immediately understood why the White Gaia had pressed the thing so closely to her bosom, for if life were to reach such a thing…
As I drifted away from the timeless sleeper, a now familiar gaze burned into my dream, looking at me with equally bottomless and beckoning impatience. I could feel the scorching hunger of countless wolves wash across me like a searing wind. My dream was melting from the mounting heat, rendering voluminous visions into a single surging stare. The dream was no longer my own, and the dreamer was crushing me into the shape of a wolf. A monstrous hunger began to overfill my new dimensions, and I couldn’t contain the emptiness. I sprang awake in a slick of sweat, with an endless hunger. I moved from the bed and collected my family. They seemed every bit as ravenous as the wolves. We would all need to feed, and soon.
The dream of hunger was no longer new to me, but now its appetite had escaped from sleep, and had taken refuge within us all. My sisters were near frenzy, begging me to take them to the church. My father’s powerful hands took me about the shoulders and pushed me from the room, out of the apartment house and into the night.
I forced myself to slacken my pace and absorb the sights as I traveled. From the moon-frosted meadows I could better see the corpse of the town splayed out amid the encroaching forest. The town was like some dead-brown and drying serpent's husk, the crooked gambrel spines occasionally breaking the surface of the treetops, revealing the places where it had fallen so many years ago. I tried to focus on Mr. Trill—and the lost dream he would finally recall—but my father’s strength was greater than my own, and I quickly found myself lifted into the shadows that surrounded the church. My hunter’s silence spread out all around me, and my thoughts disappeared into my sisters’ bright smiles.
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