The dream starts perhaps not as usual but at least unremarkably with Feather following a narrow trail through the underbrush in a thick part of the forest, branches and leaves brushing against her at the sides of the path as she travels. And then abruptly the path opens up into a large open glade. The forest floor is covered with soft moss and the edges of the glade bloom with brightly color berries, vibrant flowers in a variety of shapes and even leaves in shapes she hasn't seen before. There are more unfamiliar plants in this one glade than Feather would expect to see in a year or more of travels. And in the center of the glade is a pink squirrel gently crouching on the mossy surface with three miniature trees only a few feet high arrayed around it. One looks like a the sort of tree she would see around the forest normally, one with a fluffy crown of white leaves that almost resembles a cloud and the last is covered in small flowers in a rainbow of colors.

"Hello Feather."

The dream starts perhaps not as usual but at least unremarkably with Feather following a narrow trail through the underbrush in a thick part of her forest, branches and leaves brushing against her at the sides of the path as she travels. And then abruptly the path opens up into a large open glade that does not fit for being in her forest. The forest floor is covered with soft moss and the edges of the glade bloom with brightly colored berries, vibrant flowers in a variety of shapes and even leaves in shapes she hasn't seen before. There are more unfamiliar plants in this one glade than Feather would expect to see in a year or more of travels. And in the center of the glade is a pink squirrel gently crouching on the mossy surface with three miniature trees only a few feet high arrayed around it. One looks like a the sort of tree she would see around the forest normally, one with a fluffy crown of white leaves that almost resembles a cloud and the last is covered in small flowers in a rainbow of colors.

"Hello Feather," says the squirrel.

The dream starts perhaps not as usual but at least unremarkably with Feather following a narrow trail through the underbrush in a thick part of her forest, branches and leaves brushing against her at the sides of the path as she travels. And then abruptly the path opens up into a large open glade that does not fit for being in her forest. The forest floor is covered with soft moss and the edges of the glade bloom with brightly colored berries, vibrant flowers in a variety of shapes and even leaves in shapes she hasn't seen before. There are more unfamiliar plants in this one glade than Feather has seen in the past year. And in the center of the glade is a pink squirrel gently crouching on the mossy surface with three miniature trees only a few feet high arrayed around it. One looks like a the sort of tree she would see around the forest normally, one with a fluffy crown of white leaves that almost resembles a cloud and the last is covered in small flowers in a rainbow of colors.

"Hello Feather," says the squirrel.