Slender arms reaching down
tugging at the roots of silvery motes
shift in and out of phase.

These motes of dreamstuff
flicker with soft glows.

These arms slowly, gently
release a shimmering sigh
of possibility.

Dreams awake.
Fluttering, flitting.
Grasping firmly
onto the nearest of roots.

Once again.
These arms spin about.
Connecting. Digging further.
Into a world of verity.

Dream.
Dream awake.
Dream possibility.

Find roots.
Find connection.
Find Dynara.