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Message: <blockquote data-quote="SelcSilverhand" data-source="post: 2737978" data-attributes="member: 30016"> So many... Dargin whispers softly in his dream. He stands perfectly still, paralyzed with fear as the countless eye sockets of the hungry birds turn to regard him. Grandfather. He can guide me safely in this place. Somewhere among these.. things, but they all look the same! I can sense their hunger, their craving for something from me.Taking a deep breath, he fights back against rising panic. I cannot trust my sight to choose, nor my ears to hear his voice among the crowd. Their touch is cold, the wind I feel on my face stings with a sandy grit, and it carries with it the smell of the long dead unearthed. Only the soft stirring of the spirit speaks the truth, and only by following it shall my path be made clear. With shaking hands he unwraps his silken belt and places the wide band across his eyes, wraps it thrice, and ties it tight. His legs feel like wood as he forces himself onward towards the waiting crows. He does his best to ignore their angry squawks and the sound of bone rubbing on bone as they scratch at the ground. Focusing inward he seeks the faint tug on his innermost self that will lead him.</blockquote>