The shed roof hasn't changed at all, but it, and the nearby houses are now in a forest, mighty redwoods stretching up into the sky and breaking the sunlight into shafts of glimmering gold and shifting shadow.  It's almost always like this... when a cat dreams at the Meeting Place, this is usually how it looks on the other side.

The air is filled with the hum of insects (though, strangely, none are visible at the moment) and the scents of wild flowers.  Somewhere nearby, something huge and ponderous is moving slowly and silently among the trees.  A vast, shadowy form glimpsed, indistinctly, through the trunks.

Mister Pig opens his eyes, yawns, and stretches.  Then he looks up at the sky where it is visible between the trees, before crossing the roof.  "The tree... it was this way, I remember."  And he jumps to the ground, landing easily on a soft carpet of moss.

"Downslope to the stream, then follow the water for a while."

Mephistopheles sits still for a few moments, surveying the area for anything out of place.  Out of place for a dream, that is.  He takes a deep breath, enjoying the scents that hang in the air.

"At least it's a nice day here too."




OOC: Mephistopheles rolled 1 evens using 4d6 with the Advantage system with rolls of 5, 6, 1, 1.  Checking area.

Yay!  One even on four dice.  Nice.  :(

Sunny rolled to his feet quickly and slowly peered around the forest. Trees, high places for birds to hide. Shadows, good places for birds to hide. He supposed there might be Boggins as well. Licking his nose, he sneezed violently. Something seemed off. He sat on his haunches for a moment to clean his whiskers a bit and nodded at Mephistopheles, "Indeed it is. A nice day for birds as well."


11:47, Today: Sunny rolled 1 evens using 4d6 with the Advantage system with rolls of 3, 3, 2, 3.  noticing things.

Must have dirty whiskers, must be.

Sir Percy takes his time and looks around carefully, eyes half-closed but fully vigilant.

Roll 5d6

Face 4, requesting to use my "the Vigilant" Reputation for 1 more die.

ETA: I rolled 5,5,4,5,2 in the dice roller. Is there any special way to make that roll appear in a post, or do I just paste it in every time?
This message was last edited by the player at 05:39, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

Mister Pig sits down on the leaf litter, and looks back to see if the others are following after him. 

"It really isn't that far to the tree." states poor Mister Pig, "We can easily be there and sort out this mess before dinner."

"At least I hope we can sort it out."

Midnight follows along with Dreamcatcher.  "Lead the way Dreamcatcher", he says in a voice like a kitten.

Midnight rarely speaks at all but this time, speech is essential and he doubts that other cats would understand the bite language he has developed with the man, who doesn't speak Cat but understand Bite.  On the other hand, his kittenlike voice may just be because he is missing an essential piece.

Miss Cuddles yawned and stretched as she awoke in the Kingdom of Dreams.  She gave her self a good shake, sat down and licked her front paws, one at a time, before rising again to follow Dreamcather.

"Coming ... coming ...," she called to the others as she began following the others, although she surveyed the area around them very carefully searching for anything out of the ordinary or suspicious.

Sunny still watched the trees warily, "I don't SEE any birds. But you never know. Birds are tricksy." Slowly, he rises from his haunches and walks to the edge. He pauses at the edge and eyes the ground while rolling his hips a few times preparing to jump. He then lands upon the earth with a solid thud. It is a most uncatlike sound but Sunny is large and densely built and rather not sneaky unless hunting birds.

His bouncing gait soon followed the others.

Bones Fleabag awoke in the Kingdom of Dreams, refreshed for the good rest he had gotten in the other world. With several odd, stretching steps, he followed after his friends to help Dreamcatcher.

Bones Fleabag did not keep an eye out for danger--if danger was meant to show its face, it would do so whether or not he was looking, after all.

Sir Percy follows the others.

"Mrrrrrr. Be careful," he cautions. "Something is setting my whiskers on edge..."

Satisfied that the rest of the team is following, Mister Pig shakes himself, then continues on his way to the stream, passing through rays of sunlight which shine down from the canopy.

Within minutes, he approaches his destination and stops, surprised, a few yards short of it.

The stream is much as it always was - narrow and fast-flowing, bubbling and splashing merrily as it weaves between the trees, flanked by tall grass and reeds.  But one thing appears to have changed...

"Milk!" gasps the Dreamcatcher, staring at the white liquid surging past in the stream bed.

"At least it's still running in the proper direction."

"Proper direction for what?" snaps a somewhat irritated voice from among the reeds.

Midnight moves up to the nearest tree from which he hopes to get a proper view of whoever can be heard talking, particularly the irritated one.

Shadowfoot, having been busy gently tapping on a pebble set on top of a small rock doesn't react to the others as they start to arrive and talk.  It is not until the new voice is heard that she looks up and over towards its location that she abandons her project.

Taking a seat she tilts her head and waits.

Midnight took some time selecting the best tree and then climbed, nonchalantly and with grace as if he were part squirrel or some other arboreal creature.  Once he reached the top, he hid among the leaves and gazed down upon the speakers below.

"For the trees, I suppose. Who is it?" Bones Fleabag sat down quite politely to wait for the owner of the voice to reveal themselves.

Dancer wasn't that surprised by the river of milk.  He had, after all, seen some strange things while visiting the Dream.  Like the occasion when he ... well, no time to reminisce now - somebody is here!

He hunkers down and does the butt wiggle, in preparation for a devastating pounce attack.

A hiss and a growl escape Sunny at the sudden voice. On edge already due to the nature of their quest and the lumbering behemoth, a sudden intruder was less than welcome. His eyes scanned the river bank slowly looking for the culprit. His whole body was tense and vibrated ready for action.

Miss Cuddles paused in mid-stride as an unknown voice was heard.  Unlike some of her friends, she walked closer to where the voice had come from (but not too close), her head moving from side to side as she scanned for the speaker.  She sat down at what she considered a safe distance, her ears twitching as she listened for any further words or movement that this stranger might utter and her eyes wide and un-blinking as she scanned the area.

Sir Percy shies back, tail twitching. If there is going to be trouble, he's going to sprout wings and fly off immediately. A gentlecat understands that discretion is the better part of valour!

The speaker crawls out from among the reeds.  A large frog, his skin flushed dark with anger.  His broad, batrachian face looks glum, even compared to other frogs.

"This was a beautiful stream.  I lived here my whole life, frog and tadpole." he sighs, "And now it is poisoned with this white stuff, whatever it is.  I can't live here any more.  The water is gone.  I hope you lot didn't do this.  It's just the sort of thing I'd expect from... mammals."

Midnight was about to come down when suddenly he realised there were two voices.  One had been this frog but who was the other.  He peered down to try to get a better view.

"Mrrrr. It wasn't us," Sir Percy says. "Though personally I'd call it an improvement. Water is so dreadfully... common."

He leans down and takes a few enterprise licks from the stream.

"First my beautiful home is destroyed," croaks the frog, "and then you try to drink what is left.  Woe is me!  Alas and alack!  Will nobody help me?"  He curls one of his front feet, they aren't really paws, into something that resembles a fist, and makes a passable attempt at shaking it at the sky.

"Curse you, oh cruel Universe!  You who has always mocked me, and ground my aspirations under your indifferent heel!"