The sky is a contrast to the ground below, so blackened and charred, while it remains so colorful and lively. The sparks of color are like aurora borealis, dotted by sprinkles of space's beauty. The stars, shining so brightly, rain light down on him in a way unlike life itself, as if he, too, sparkled, kissed by the universe's grace. The trees are burnt and dying, not a leaf to be found, branches falling apart and landing along the winding, endless path in the vast expanse. The soil is black, perhaps with traces of glimmering remnants of gemstones, of diamonds, and the air holds a smog mixed of some pleasant smoky scent intertwined with rosemary.
It truly is a land of smog and diamonds, so arboreal and ethereal, so much so that he can only take small treads ahead and drink it all in.
Amidst the ground, just a small ways into the path, stars can be found.
They aren't much like realistic stars, large and burning and fiery up-close, but they are more like if a paper star tried to become the real thing. They are perfectly shaped into the common human representation, glowing softly in different shades, pinks and blues and yellows and greens. Shadow's mind is in a haze, fogged by the dream's escape from life as he knows it, and all he knows to do is to keep walking, occasionally kneeling forth to pluck a star from the ground and admire it.
It's a look into Shadow's mind; tragedy is burned into it, yet beauty wraps it in its protective and eye-catching cloth.
[ shadow's dream ] starlite, starbrite
It's an endless sea of trees and stars.
The sky is a contrast to the ground below, so blackened and charred, while it remains so colorful and lively. The sparks of color are like aurora borealis, dotted by sprinkles of space's beauty. The stars, shining so brightly, rain light down on him in a way unlike life itself, as if he, too, sparkled, kissed by the universe's grace. The trees are burnt and dying, not a leaf to be found, branches falling apart and landing along the winding, endless path in the vast expanse. The soil is black, perhaps with traces of glimmering remnants of gemstones, of diamonds, and the air holds a smog mixed of some pleasant smoky scent intertwined with rosemary.
It truly is a land of smog and diamonds, so arboreal and ethereal, so much so that he can only take small treads ahead and drink it all in.
Amidst the ground, just a small ways into the path, stars can be found.
They aren't much like realistic stars, large and burning and fiery up-close, but they are more like if a paper star tried to become the real thing. They are perfectly shaped into the common human representation, glowing softly in different shades, pinks and blues and yellows and greens. Shadow's mind is in a haze, fogged by the dream's escape from life as he knows it, and all he knows to do is to keep walking, occasionally kneeling forth to pluck a star from the ground and admire it.
It's a look into Shadow's mind; tragedy is burned into it, yet beauty wraps it in its protective and eye-catching cloth.