Her plume was poofed up, spine raised. She was scared, not angry. He didn't corner her so in a way it calmed her, more so when he was sitting. Her arctics kept a very close eye on him as she slowly flattened her hackles, her black tipped plume flicking around at her back limbs. "Woah calm down, everything's okay. I'm Alastair, you're in Blossom Field. And in all honesty, I've no idea who you are." Everything was so unfirmiliar. How did she get here? Why was she here? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "Listen, I'm going to help you. You needn't be afraid of me, alright?" His step forward made her hackles raise once more with uneasiness. "I'm not going to hurt you." She lowered her head towards the earth. "Do you remember anything?"

She shook her head. "Everything's a blank . . . I can just barley remember a name." What was it again? D- Something with a D. She sighed softly, sitting down with a thump. Dream. Dreamer? She shook her head. Dream Drop. Her orbs widened as she looked up at the man before her. "I got it! I got something! Dream Drop, my name is Dream Drop!" She grinned, her plume gently wagging and hitting the ground. Her arctics beaming at him as the woman was taken with some joy of finding out at least her title. But now what else was to come? That was all she could get.




"I can't see what's wrong with living for myself."

WE ARE NOT HOLY WE ARE GRAVEYARD SOULS

DREAM DROP
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