The Dream Turns Into A Dream After wandering for what could have been a few minutes, or many days, Selene emerged into a strange place - even by Dream standards. Desert-like, with a reddish sun, sand blowing into puffs and drifts by the winds. A little exploration brought her to a little stream, and it was here Selene spent her timeless time. She could have awakened, yes, but something kept her from doing so, some tugging deep within her she didn't quite understand. So, she stayed, wandering the area near the stream, leaving behind little desert flowers in her wake. When she needed to rest, she curled up near the bank, the water soothing and recharging her spirit.

The first clue he had to a Trespasser was in the flowers. Nothing grew here, not anymore. Everything in the Kallow was a relic, a remnant, a ruin. He narrowed his eyes, set his jaw and took off along a stretch of white sand, listening, a rasped whisper calling, "Come out."

Selene was exploring one such ruin at the moment , an ancient steam engine, listed in a sand dune, only half of its massive frame exposed. She hummed an old Irish medley as she did so - right up until she thought she heard something, or someone. She paused in her tune, and listened, perhaps she was hearing things in the strange place.

Long pale hands lifted into his hair, held back as he shut his eyes, walking blindly forth. He could feel the resonance of another. Less her song than her life. Her energy. It sent a stranger chill up his back to waltz in his chest. He continued on, shoveling sand by with his long strides, black eyes flashing wide. "Where are you..."

There it was - not it, but someone else, someone Selene had not felt before. She peeked from around the engine, honeyed hair dancing behind her as she answered: "I am here, but where are you?"

A woman. He smiled faintly, in surprise and the vagary of her response. He looked up ahead. Silhouettes of dead trees, of dunes. He kept going, until the feeling of her was so rich he thought he might fall over, unable to stand. She hummed through him. Her melody just a song from her lips, but to him, here, in the True Place of his life and nature, it was an aria, one that quaked him.

She continued humming, padding around the steam engine, those little flowers springing up in her footsteps as she moved closer to where she felt he was, for she felt strongly he was definitely a he. The sands barely shifted as she walked, her song paused to again call, "Where are you?"

For every hummed breath he was given a shudder. He kept going. Kept moving closer. It was there on the crest of a small, sloping dune that he first saw her. Saw the Trespasser. Saw the flowers springing up in her wake. His eyes widened and he rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt, gazing, squinting, trying to determine whether this was dream hoax, some jest on behalf of the forecasters, or some dream within a dream.

Selene almost looked ethereal, as he drew ever closer. Her nightgown was white, tickling about her ankles as she walked, tilting her head in curiosity as she looked at the dark man - not fear, as one might think. She half-expected him to vanish, like a mirage, yet he stayed within her sight as she walked closer.

The dark man and the dream maiden. "Who are you?" He remained as he was, watching her without any ease. There was nothing threatening in her, nothing inherent that he could sense, but nonetheless she was here, in his dream, in his Walk. "How did you get here?" Waist-length midnight drifted over his face and shoulders, braided in parts with leather binds. He didn't move to brush his hair away, to extend a hand. He did not dare. If someone was in the dream, uninvited, this was serious. Worry was the course of his mouth, twisting.

Soon, or was it soon, she was standing in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch him, yet she dared not. The weight of him held her back, yet still, she was not afraid. Her voice was as delicate as she seemed, lilting and soft. "I came through the path in the Grove."

"The Grove?" His throat rolled with a swallow. He suddenly was there behind her, walking a crescent until he stood at her left hand side, a hand out just before the soft cotton of her presence. He was staring at his hand and the distance between them, deciding upon the reality of this with a heavy heart. If the Kallow could be so accessed....that made him a man afraid. Black eyes drew up to find her face again. "What is your name?"

She turned on her spot, facing him yet again. The unease she sensed from him drew her hand out, palm reaching to touch his shoulder. "Selene, Selene O'Malley. " She looked around at the dunes, the strange sky, the ruined engine, then back to him. "What is this place?"

There was no acknowledgment of her touch nor the area around them. "This is the Kallow." He said it rather deadpan, keeping his eyes trained on her: "Where is the grove, Selene?" He looked like he had just gotten out of bed himself, in draping pants and shirt. But his eyes were alive. Well and truly awake. He moved away "I am Oja. This is my Spirit Walk."

She followed, little steps drawing her to his side, those little white desert blossoms still following her. His name brought a smile to her face - why, she did not know. "The Grove is to me, what the Kallow is to you, Oja - at least, it seems that way to me. The Grove is where I go, when I dream."

The room was small, yet cozy and comfortable. Ivory lace curtains danced in the early morning breeze, sunlight dappling the ironwork bedstead. A figure under the antiqued quilt stirred. "Mummy, I had the strangest dre-"

Selene sat up in the bed, her body wired for alert in the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn't her bedroom back home, with its plain curtains and simple bedspread. Slowly, Selene pieced together her dream - her dream walk, as it had turned out to be, from her beloved Grove to the strange desert-like Walk the man called the Kallow, to the disappearance of her path, to being brought here. The question was, of course, where WAS here"

She stood, bare feet gliding over the smooth hardwood floor to the window, where she looked out at the backyard, the gnarled, thin tree through which he'd brought her, out of the Kallow. The dawning light danced in her honeyed curls, as she swept them away from her face, lost in her own thoughts. Would she ever find her own path, her own Grove, again? What would her family think when they realized she was no longer in her room, or even in her own world" The question she'd asked within her dream came rushing back to her. What would happen to her now"

Softly, Selene turned away from the window, and crossed the little room to the door, and opened it. Her gown floated behind her like the morning mist as she found the stairs, the ground floor, and ultimately the back door, seeking the one person who could possibly answer her burning questions.

Oja.