MottlePaw looked around. Her vision was hazy as she shook. She could see her breath, her movements were slow. Too slow. She looked up at her mother, who was glaring at her with strong distaste. "Thou should'st've gotten married to that fool." She stated.

MottlePaw flinched. "Aye..." She shook her head. "I felt nought for him though. Nay love, no summon to be with him, nought. I is not that way with anyone!" MottlePaw responded.

Her mother glared at her, her silvery coat gleaming and her blue eyes glaring at her. "Everyone feels that summon to be with some one." Her mother snapped. MottlePaw shook her head. 

"Not me. I is not love, I is not the quickening of mine heartbeat and the summon to be near one. I is not like I do lack to spend the rest of mine life with anyone!" MottlePaw responded. Her mother snarled. "Thy broken. I'd something thou at least marry that pirate, or some one than lie to me like that!" She hissed.

MottlePaw flinched and closed her eyes, opening them to a lush field. Her mother nowhere in sight. She sighed as she looked around. In the center of the field was Winter. His eyes open, and almost unnatural in appearance.

They were completely white, and glowing. No pupils, no irises, nothing. Just blank voids, like a blank canvas. It was almost horrifying, especially once MottlePaw noticed the plants wrapped around him. The plants looked as though they were draining the life-force out of him, or trapping him.

MottlePaw took a step forwards, wanting to help Winter. The heavily scarred, white cat turned and looked at her, warning her not to get too close.

MottlePaw stepped back as Winter stared at her. "I see all's. Thou see all's I see 'i mine dreams. Sometimes I shall receive dreams of possibilities, or dreams from other worlds. You do now not receive me though. None receives me, none aside from Patchy. Patches? They are of the like, not one, nor the other. Patches hath been hither ere. Patchy? Patch." Winter spoke oddly, his voice almost deformed in a sense.

It was creeping MottlePaw out. "Are thou-" "I am Winter. Winter? No, that's not me. It doesn't sit right. Yet it is mine name, so I don't wot why it is not right." Winter responded.

MottlePaw slowly nodded. "So, this is a dream then, right? Thou art not actually like this- this thing, right?" She asked. Winter stared. "We are what we look like. This is me. Thou are 'i a dream. I am 'i mine reality." Winter responded.

MottlePaw backed up, confused, then she stepped forwards, but Winter shot her a glace, a warning. Everything was so confusing to her. But it was a dream, so none if it was probably real to begin with. She closed her eyes to think, then when she opened them, she was awake. 

Her movements were back to normal, she couldn't see her breath. It was odd, and terrifying. She felt as though she'd have to ask Winter sometime in the future.