Color fades away; good times here today, yeah, most every day
Meanwhile you would say I close my eyes and dream of only yesterday
Color fades away; good times here today yeah most every day
Meanwhile you would say that I close my eyes…

**Time without end, world on fire; wings of flame brush his face, his mind, There's nothing beneath to catch him, no waiting comfort to ease that wild untamed terror. An earth-shattering roar explodes across the senses, brilliant light lacing across his eyes, blinding him. Hot. It's so hot. **

Dizzy, nauseous, he crawls out of the depths of sleep to find brown wings mantled over his bruised body curled on the warm stones of the Barracks, his arms over his head and his knees drawn up to his chest to protect it against a fall that has not happened — will not happen. There's a soft muzzle pushing against his chest, a soft croon rumbling in the great brown chest that is lowered to the ground near his ear.

It wasn't real; it wasn't real.

They have yet to fly together, he's reminded. «I will not let you fall. Your life is my life. My life is your life. Shall we preserve it, our one life?»
Bright. Hopeful. Dauntingly hopeful — Kyprioth. Half his heart, half his soul. Assent is given, his long brown arms circling the brown's neck like a child clinging to his father. «No more falling. Even in sleep.» This draws a weak chuckle as the neo-weyrling picks himself up off the stones and decides that it is perhaps better to curl up with his dragon than on the cot.

Perhaps the dreams will stay away, now.