A breeze blows through the marsh as she's savoring the quiet.

She couldn't be sure how long it had been. Peace, silence, it was all a thing of the past, it seemed. She was too busy running, escaping the clock. At one point she thought she had had all the time in the world, and now, it felt like she only had so long. It wasn't fair. She was a spoiled brat and wanted things she couldn't have, things she didn't deserve, a blind prophet in all her glory. Maybe her father was right.

But, just this once, she tries not to think. She focuses on the silence, on the foggy form of the sun rising above the horizon. It was cloudy out, the sky faintly colored in hues of orange and red. She preferred the night-time, but this was just as beautiful, just as serene.

But what's a god to a non-believer?

The thought penetrates her brain, despite her concentration, the wall she built between herself and the reality of time. She only had so much. Now she knew how 'mortals' felt. But she was always bound to die in the first place.

[member=2875]JIM[/member]

She's not startled by the sudden voice, remaining placid as she stares out into the distance, burning holes into the ascending sun. She could sense his presence, her hyper-vigilance both a blessing and a curse. She urged for a sense of relaxation but it never came. She wondered if she would be on edge for the rest of her life, however short it was.

She didn't want to die. "I agree." she offers in a rumbling voice, stronger now than when she first came. When she craned her neck to look at him, plant-mane swishing with the movement, she can only think one thing of him: he was going to die one day. It's the first thing she registers about him--not his face or the exhaustion that hangs behind his life, only the inevitability that his life would end. But it wasn't like she wouldn't anymore.

Then silence settles again, Feverdream's mouth pursed in a thin line. She is comfortable with the silence now. She doesn't see the reason in trying to fill the air, so she doesn't, going back to watching and lingering. She doesn't care much for what he thinks of her.

She had been alive long enough to know the constellations quite well. She can pinpoint them in the night sky almost effortlessly, with many evenings of gazing and admiring up her sleeves. She remembers helping humans with their little astronomy projects, things to make them feel smarter in such a large world. But, as beings who lived for such short time and were so simple-minded, they were hardly anything in the grand scheme of things. They would all return to the same rugged dust they came from.

But she didn't voice any of these thoughts, and if she knew Jim's past, she definitely wouldn't have either way. Maybe she would sympathize with him somewhat, knowing he was a victim of human fragility. Still, she didn't know, so she couldn't feel any pity for him. Instead she just saw him as all the others, a speck that would waste away in time. Being alive for so long, she had become painfully aware of the birth of life and the destruction of death. It was tiring sometimes.

The large beast cocks her head at his question, facing him once again with a quizzical look on her face. "No. But I suppose I should thank you for your concern." she speaks in a rumble, the words bouncing around in her chest. "The mud and muck is quite..unseemly, however. Quite the nuisance." he looks friendly enough, and she didn't mind keeping conversation. Maybe she could use the noise.

It wouldn't be the first time she got a negative reaction after mentioning mortality. She was never sure why it bothered humans so much, not until she recognized it herself, her declining health opening her eyes to what they experienced. She had never been afraid to die, not when she had so long left. Now she wasn't so sure.

It was a slow descent, but just as with anyone else's health, it was unpredictable. In that window of time, she needed to find worshipers. Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple. It was never certain if they would react in astonishment, or react with violence and shouting.

There's a sound in her throat upon hearing his response, similar to a purr but more hearty. Her lips twitch, corners lifting just faintly. She gives a shrug of her shoulders and briefly glances down at herself. Her fur was pretty dark, the perfect shade to hide any splattered mud, though she was somewhat stingy when it came to hygiene. She didn't care about how many times she would have to wash, as long as she was clean.

"Ah, so it is. Convenient, indeed." there's a playful note to her tone, swinging her head slightly to clear her vision of her bangs. She blended in quite well with the marsh, her pelt matching the brown and green colors. "The feeling is still quite unpleasant, though. Especially when it dries. It's a pain to get out" she gives a small huff.

When it comes down to it, she wasn't sure why she had joined. She could have gone on wandering, the loneliness never bothering her before. But it had been a long time since then, and during that period, she had been surrounded by others, whether it be her traveling group or her own children. Even the people of her village. If she hadn't come to Tanglewood, would she finally feel the bitterness of being alone? Would it settle like a heavy weight in her chest, or would it never come at all? These were questions she wasn't sure she wanted the answers to.

Her thoughts are short-lived, suddenly pulled away and forced back to reality. She comes back to Jim's face, blinking absentmindedly before she registers what they were doing. She hated it, how often she got lost in her thoughts nowadays. Perhaps this conversation was getting dangerous.

"Perhaps not. But we're here anyways." Feverdream points out, head turning back towards the sunrise, which wasn't much of a sunrise anymore. The sun was way beyond the horizon now. "How long have you been here, Jim? In Tanglewood." she's asking simply to make conversation, not really because she cares or is curious. Just something to create some distance.