In being a member of the resistance there was always a lingering sensation of apprehension, however it normally disappeared once back within the confines of ones home. Tonight, however, as the dawn approached and the eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, the feeling didnâ€™t leave. It felt as though there was a pin in the heart and the slightest movement would cause it to burst. The only thing one could do was just lie there; paralyzed in the fear and anxiety. Yet somehow in this state of paranoia, sleep finds the members swiftly. The last dying sensation of consciousness carries the slightest hint of  water lily and wild roses.<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>The nightmares rippled over the lot; but one in particular dreamed a different dream as the sun made its way across the sky. Perhaps it was because he had spent so much time touching on other supernaturals thoughts or perhaps by some twist of fate, but Talonâ€™s dreams were entirely not his own. Of course, when so many supernaturals gather, there was bound to be some intermingling and lingering energy which could normally be experienced by quite a few after the meeting was over. This lingering energy exacted itâ€™s control over the werewolf and the only thing he could do was watch as the vision unfolded.<br/><br/>Just as all dreams do, it started with darkness. The first senses to kick in were his taste and smell. The air was thick; heavy with mist, blood, and dirt. It left a weight within the lungs with every breath. The ground beneath his feet was ragged and uneven as he moved forward; his feet carrying him of their own volition regardless of what he wanted to do. It did not take long to realize, once the dull glow of the moon illuminated the citadel and the circles below, that the ground he walked was one drenched in blood and the fallen bodies of his friends, of his pack, of his enemies. No time was spared for grief to set in as an unseen force placed its fingers underneath his chin and tilted his head up towards the northern sky. The realization was settling in; he could see in this world. What he saw above him was the moon drawn in close to the earth. The reflection of the sun rays made it shine brightly enough to see the craters and divots which contorted into a prominent scowl and a set of glaring eyes.<br/><br/>He turns slowly to gaze upon the southern sky, and in the air he sees the sun within a gilded ring; frozen there and unmoving. The flames they churned but did not break through the barrier. He could hear the sounds the cries and screams of a battle still in progress. It waned in an out like the unreliable reception of a radio across state lines. More death than he had experienced throughout his entire life. It seemed like an eternity he was forced to watch the sun and listen. Just when the sense of failure and loss began to overwhelm him, he saw a flash of something within the sky. He could see the golden ring breaking. Another flash, and it cracked further. He couldnâ€™t tell what was hitting it; what was causing it to break. He could only watch; what a terrible feeling; the complete and utter relinquishment of control to a higher power, willingly or unwillingly. As that thought of becoming a pawn in this game crosses his mind, there is a sense of rage that is not his own.<br/><br/>One more shattering strike from the invisible force and the golden circlet shatters into thousands of fragments; droplets of obsidian liquid fall to the ground. The rays of daylight break through sending a streaming blue color across the blackened sky and shattering the image of the moon. From its broken cage a feather falls; its shaft stained in the blackened substance. It falls right to his feet as a sense of warmth rushes over him. While it should be comforting it only serves to feed the anxiety.  In his heart he knew it wasnâ€™t over. While the cries died down into nothingness, and the darkness was driven away; the sense of finality was absent.<br/><br/>The dream ends abruptly; as if it hadnâ€™t intended to end so soon. In a blink Talon is awake once more from his slumber after many hours passed. Heâ€™s a bit weak when he tries to stand. All just a nightmare, of course. He goes about his normal routine, but when he heads towards the entrance to leave, he is stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes sift downward to view a pristine, silken white feather stained with the dried liquid at its root.<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>The regular note was delivered whether by word of mouth or a scrawling on a paper; the time and encrypted location of tonightâ€™s meeting for all members.