<span style="font-weight: bold"><div style="text-align: center;">Christopher</div></span><br/><br/>Christopher had been walking out of the forest with a great purpose, that purpose being to find a better dream to enjoy, but the way that the one figure had shouted at him was disconcerting. It made him stop and turn after a few more steps. What right did a dream-man have to shout at the dreamer? Could one's own subconscious berate itself? These were the sort of questions he was here to find out, after all. Unlocking the mysteries of the dreamer's mind. What was the point of all this? That's the question.<br/><br/>"You're a forceful one. That's interesting." He said, turning around and crossing his arms over his chest. Chris planned to ask more questions, set off a regular interrogation, but oddly enough the man started talking to a Russian. That was certainly a first for him, a bilingual dream. Very curious.<br/><br/>That's when the ground shook from the sudden explosion, the trees shaking madly, and sending Christopher straight to the ground. "Bloody hell!" He exclaimed in true british fashion, on his stomach and covering his head. Could you ever really die in a dream? He couldn't remember ever dying before. "What's all this then?" It was impossible to keep the worried tremor from his voice.<br/><br/>"All in one piece?" He shouted back to whatever female, another foreigner as well(did he really know so many convincing accents?), asked the question. "I'm not bloody well alright, and you know it, dream-people. Quit this cheekiness right now!" They should listen to him, shouldn't they? He was the dreamer here.