I was covering myself in war paint. It glowed in the dark and there was something very ritualistic, very natural about it. I was preparing myself to battle something godly and from the earth. It was trying to overtake a part of the city that had always belonged to my people (I am as Mutt as it gets, in reality) and I wasn't going to lose what was rightfully ours to some self-centered, over-confident god from before times. Everyone was afraid of it. I remember them begging me not to start this conflict, that it didn't matter... we could always find somewhere else to be.
I was a true, action-story hero last night.
And I woke up in the middle of the dream because my neighbours don't understand the concept of school nights. Or volume.
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