Characters:
Relovic (OakWind) - A High Lord of Cairhien and wolfbrother.
Odessa (BrightHawk) - An experienced wolfbrother and entertainer in Tar Valon.
WhiteFoam - A wolf.

Setting: Tel'aran'rhiod -- The Wolf Dream
The forest here is broken by a babbling brook, the water rushing and tumbling over moss-covered rocks and broken twigs. For all that this seems a lush forest, it is strangely quiet; as though all were asleep, or all were waiting for something to come. It seems bright enough, almost dawn-like, only it's hard to say where exactly the light comes from. To the south the forest tapers off to a large field, while to the north the hills continue to roll upward.

Relovic blinks and looks around. Wasn't he just dreaming of... And why is this dream so... real. The breeze ruffles through his hair and makes the lord jerk his head into the wind. It feels so... real. Noticing more than the wind that flows through his hair, Relovic looks around, seeming to search for wildlife. This is a forest, and there should be /some/ noise. The days spent hunting tell this newcomer that this forest is quiet, too quiet. He glances around, almost nervously. Hadn't that Aes Sedai said something about dreams...

It is several long minutes of that same strange silence before barely-audible sounds reach even your sensitive ears. Light feet pad through the forest, and two figures break through the bushes on the other side of the brook, one white-grey, one jet-black. Wolves. Their scent, carried on the breeze, told you that much even before they appeared. They both pause, not noticing you yet as they dip muzzles into the cold water. The darker one seems... different, somehow, but that leaves your mind as the white one lifts her head to stare directly at you. Her thoughts are as clear to you as they are to the wolf they're intended for: *Look, BrightHawk. A new one visits.*

Relovic takes a half-step backwards, startled. Almost of instinct his hands go to his bow, which has suddenly appeared in his hands, a quiver across his back. Strange how his clothes have changed from those of a rich lord to the browns of a hunter. Or it would be strange if Relovic noticed them. instead his attention is on the two wolves, his bow undrawn but with an arrow nocked and held at his side. His lips mouth the name 'BrightHawk'. Didn't that wolf during the hunting trip mention... He gives a small, almost imperceptible shudder as he remembers what was revealed that night. Relovic stands there, silent and waiting but with a cautious look on his face.

The black wolf's -- Brighthawk's -- head lifts curiously as Whitefoam draws her attention, but as you nock an arrow the wolf's teeth show in the beginning of a snarl. *Caution, young one. Oak Wind.* Now that her eyes are on you, you realize the difference you began to notice earlier. Those eyes, even though golden, seem far too human. Suddenly you might begin to suspect that even were you able to raise that bow, these wolves would be over the stream long before it would have any kind of effect.

Whitefoam gathers her haunches beneath her and leaps across the stream, landing lightly near you. Oddly enough, you sense no danger from her, only curiosity and greeting. *This is not a place for the unwary, Oak Wind. Why have you come here?*

The bow disappears from Relovic's hands a moment before BrightHawk's warning and his clothes shift back to that of a Lord's at the word's, um, thoughts of caution. His eyes shift from their study of BrightHawk to Whitefoam as she lands near him. His clothing shifts a few more times, going through different styles and cuts yet always with stripes of blue and green on it. Even though he feels strange doing so, he answers the wolf, outloud yet in a soft voice, as if he doesn't really want to be heard talking to wolves. "What do you mean why I'm here? I don't even know where here is?" He glances around at the too real forest, and at the running water of the stream, and then back at BrightHawk with a studying look. So far he has made no mention of being called by his wolf-name, yet if one looks it can be seen that it bothers him.

The black wolf too jumps nimbly across the stream, padding up softly to stand beside Whitefoam. As you speak aloud, you realize it is not a second wolf, really, but a woman, with black hair and gold eyes like yours, who stands beside Whitefoam. Was it ever a wolf? This dream is far too strange. The woman, built like an acrobat or dancer, cocks her head to one side as she studies you in return. "This is the first I have seen a human in this dream," she says aloud. Perhaps that is why she looks human again -- to speak. It hardly seems as though she realized her form earlier. "You do not know this place?" Gold eyes fix on yours, intent, but drop to the wolf as Whitefoam's silence demands attention. *He has come for a reason, Brighthawk.*

Relovic just stares at the woman/wolf for a moment thinking 'strange dream'. His hand starts to stretch out, as if to touch the woman who was just a wolf, maybe to see if he can. However, his noble upbringing restrains his hand which returns to his side, where a beautifully worked sword appears and disappears along with a change in wardrobe once more. Finally after glancing at the wolf he looks back to the human and answers, "No. This dream, place, mystifies me."

Odessa shares a look with Whitefoam before returning her amber gaze to you. A brow arches at your ever-changing appearance; for her part, she wears a simple woolen dress, typical of the Taraboner style. "It is not often a dream here is pleasant," she says doubtfully, her gaze going to the scrub plain to the south. "There is always a reason for it. I caution you though -- what happens to you here is real. Do not ever be fooled into thinking this is only a dream." To prove her point, the slender acrobat thrusts up one sleeve, revealing old scars long healed, that rake across her forearm as though once they went almost to the bone.

"Wha..." Relovic starts to ask and then stops and looks the woman in the face, shying slightly from the eyes that are so like his own. "Who are you?" Even with his ever shifting clothes, the only thing that is constant are the stripes that go to his knees, and they certainly hint at who he is. He casts his eyes down for a second and then looks back up, "Excuse my rudeness, but you seem to know more of this place than I." 'Wherever this is' he mutters under his breathe. He seems to be mostly ignoring the wolf, as much as one is able to anyway, as he talks with the one who was a wolf but is now human.

*Do not scare him, Brighthawk.* Whitefoam steps up, nudging Relovic's hand with her muzzle. *Oak Wind has other things to think about, as do you. Follow.* With that, the wolf bounds off toward the south, a blur through the trees. It seems though that you barely begin to take a step, before you three are standing in a haze of mist, fog rolling uneasily about. It is so thick, in fact, that it is impossible to see past it; you could be standing on nothing, for all you know of your surroundings. The woman again stands beside you, still as anonymous as ever.

It seems this dream presents more questions than it answers, for the rolling fog lifts a moment, beneath you. And here it does seem you are standing on nothing, for you stare down at a scene unfolding on the ground... the ground a mile under your feet. For all the distance though, you can see plainly the smallest details, and your attention goes to the banner that flies at the head of an army. A white banner, dominated by the Great Serpent. A scent comes to you, of the man standing beside the banner; and this scent is foul indeed, wrong somehow. Whitefoam stares downward, her ears pricked forward. To her, it seems altogether natural to be standing on nothing at all. *Watch, brother. Watch, sister.*

It definitely does /not/ seem natural to this newcomer to be standing on nothing at all. He shifts nervously for a brief moment until he thinks that if he continues to do so, what he is standing on, whatever that is!, may disappear. He holds still and gazes down, wrinkling his nose at the scent that comes from the man. He glances next to him but sees nothing but fog so his gaze drops once more to the scene bellow, wondering. He looks at the banner and then back at the man, a puzzled look on his face that can not be seen through the fog.

It is only now that you realize where this army is: Tar Valon. A sharp intake of breath can be heard beside you, as the woman makes the same realization, and her lips tighten in a soundless snarl. Likely it's hard to keep yourself from doing the same, with that scent so clear in your nostrils. The army begins to force down the gates to the Tower, before fog rolls in again, obscuring the image.

A moment passes, then another, before shapes can be seen through the fog again. The city before you seems altogether unreal, not anything like you've seen it to be before. Tar Valon lies half in ruins, and spikes line the pristine White Tower, adorned with heads. The Great Serpent flag flies everywhere, while the stench seems almost overpowering.

Whitefoam lets out a guttural growl, turning with one motion to leap between the two of you, back the way you came. *Come! Oak Wind! BrightHawk! Come!* There is one more image though, a fading one, as Relovic turns to follow; and that is of a man in white, with the scent of something gone rancid, and only the hint of danger. Then it's gone, and the white wolf and the woman seem not to have noticed. Only a step, and the rolling fog has returned to the relative normality of forest about you.

Relovic notices the snarl that has crept on his face and returns his face to a more neutral expression. He looks back over his shoulder, as if to catch another glimpse of something only half-seen. Turning to look at his... companions, he gives a small shake of his head. "What was... Who..." He leaves the questions unasked since the answers may not be what he wishes to hear. One phrase does manage to escape his lips whole, even if said softly and in a somewhat shocked voice, "That was Tar Valon." Another small shake of his head and he looks at Odessa wonderingly, the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

*All things here are an echo of those awake,* Whitefoam says, images tumbling through your head as she sends thoughts to you. *You see what you need to see.* Already the scene seems to be fading about you, and again it almost seems to be two wolves standing before you, then only Whitefoam and the woman. She has her hand buried in the white-gray fur, as though to reassure herself. As you awake, her amber eyes -- so much like yours -- lock onto yours, and hold your gaze. The answer comes in the affirmative. *It was Tar Valon.*

It is only as you wake that you realize the woman didn't speak those words; and it is only then that you remember the sense of tension from her, the sense that Tar Valon is where the woman might be found.