birds singing in the sycamore tree

[baedalites]

As night falls on Baedal, the city is almost quiet. The streets have a few last minute workers returning home, but by now, most citizens have already gone by the temples and picked up their vurt, ready to lay down and dream.

After placing a not-feather in one's mouth, there's a moment where it fizzes against the tongue before sliding coolly down the back of the throat and pulling the user down into sleep. A series of impressions, more sensation than anything concrete, appears before the user and this is how one chooses which Dreamer to enter.

Comments

[controlledvariable]

"Nope!" Cheerfully, and she laughs at Hermione's reaction, "You should learn to trust me. I wouldn't give you anything that tasted terrible."

A pause, "Okay, I might, but only if I thought it would be funny." Steph you are a terrible friend.

[leviohhhhsa]

"Exactly. Which is precisely what a lot of my friends at home would do, too, so you can't blame me at all for being wary," she says. It's actually a little strange for her to talk about specific people back home, and she pauses after she does it, offering Steph a quick and uncertain smile, surprised at herself for sharing.

[controlledvariable]

"All this proves is that you make good choices in friends," It's teasing, but there's a hint of gentleness in it too, in response to Hermione's uncertain smile. It's not actively encouraging her to talk more, it's just sort of an it's okay, in case Hermione does want to keep sharing.