what dreams may come

The first tributes to spend the night in the climbing trees will all share the same dream:

You stand on the widest part of a branch, greater than any that you found as the stone knight chased you through the canopy that day. The forest to either side of you is bathed in darkness, and though you hold no light, your eyes cannot seem to adjust to it to make out any details.

After some time, you begin to walk forward along the branch. Nothing changes for a long while, even the branch beneath your feet doesn't dwindle in breadth. It is as if the path you walk is never-ending.

In the dream, there is no other sound but the steady tread of your feet upon the branch.

You can feel the passage of time and it is agonisingly slow. Though the sun never rises, days seem to pass by, but you never tire and you never once slow. The thing is, you can't seem to speed up either, to end this already. You are in no better position than a mouse, stuck in place on a spinning wheel.

Try as you might, you cannot force yourself awake. There is no escape from this, there is no end, there is just an eternity of this.

Until, finally, you have been walking for a year.

A light grows ahead of you, it is she, the rising moon, and as her silver light lances through the heavy cover of the canopy ahead, your road begins to taper. You arrive at the edge of a vast clearing in the tree tops.

Hundreds of structures hug the ancient old growth, spiral stairs made of thin platforms of wood run up the sides, connecting platforms and the structures to each other. The very walls of them seem alive, with the light from the moon, candlelight filters through open windows and cast a warm glow through the air.

Though you see no one, you can see the long shadows of people, warped and disjointed against the trees. There's sound of a chorus of voices, singing in a tongue you know not of. It is so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes. You finally begin to run, you run towards your end, towards the gathering that you have been walking towards for so long.

You are certain of your path now.

Perhaps that's why you don't notice the road coming to an abrupt end in front of you.

And that's why you fall.

You wake and the dream begins to fade. Each member of the alliance will roll to discover how much your tribute remembers of this dream.

Please roll in turn order for the day (within your alliance). If you roll the same number as an ally, round your roll up by 1. Only one member of your alliance needs to roll a die for each of you to save us all a bit of time and a headache, or you can choose to roll separately.

tribute:
alliance:
[*roll range="1-4"] be sure to remove the *.