After watching the latest season, I couldn't help myself. FinnxHuntress. AT belongs to Pendleton Ward.
I'm starting again Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Rebirth
Tearing my flesh
Stripped to the bone
The all that I've grown
Leaving behind
Breathe like a child
It's taken the Winter
To find who I am
Finn was dreaming.
Dream clouds shimmered and swam in his vision, iridescent rainbow colors glistened and slid over each other like pools of sunlit oil. Like a herd of dancing rainicorns. His dreams often began this way, like his mind was rolling and turning through scenes of his past, trying to find what it was looking for.
Flickering to his left- the crystal dimension, glassy and mysterious; then far off the red dust deserts of Mars that Death frequently haunted. To his right he saw Billy's face flicker among a black velvet sky of stars, and Finn felt a twinge of sadness. Then in it's place his reclusive brother Jermaine, walking off into the distance with Bryce, their childhood home smoking up into the sky behind him. Memories fluttered past like breaths of air, so quick that Finn barely had time to notice or catch them.
As he walked through this shifting dreamscape the floor beneath his feet became more apparent, and the sound of crunching leaves rose up to his ears. Delicately quivering masses of light pink foliage rose high above him, and the familiar yellow peeling trunks slid past left and right. The Candy Forest. Finn felt the peace of recognition wash over him, and his heart lifted at the sound of birdsong, bees droning lazily across his path, the rays of sunlight dappling on the soft grass below. The same green green grass that Finn had run through as a small human boy, the same he still runs through on the verge of manhood.
Strolling in simple sweet reverie, the woods before him began to change. To his right, a candy tree stood melted and scorched, the smell of burnt caramel lingering in the air as it oozed from the lopsided plant. Finn should of been scared, but he felt oddly excited, the smokey sugary scent lingering in his nostrils and teasing his brain.
He walked quicker, peering ahead through the wreaths of smoke, ash falling in slow drifts into his eyes like soft feathery petals, kissing the skin of his cheeks as they settled to the ground. He felt a strange stinging sensation on his cheek, and raised his hand to touch it in surprise, a pink hand print lightly scorched there. He knew this memory, and felt the confusion but strange reassurance that dreams so often give, the absence of sanity made sane.
Struggling to recall names, and places, and people, he finally resigned to walking further into the smoldering candy floss forest. Small fires broke out here and there, and he felt his heart swell like a rising lick of flame in a long dormant cave. It was so hot, sweat dripping in rivulets down his face, his blue shirt sticking to him uncomfortably. He knew that he couldn't survive here for long, it was too intense for his soft exposed human boy skin. But still he walked on- after all he was an Adventurer.
Soft rain began to patter down around him, at first refreshing, but then depressing, the pink burning trees extinguished to grey lumpen masses, hissing with steam. An icy wind whistled into Finn's face and he stopped in his tracks, wary. Again he peered ahead, into the grey mist, making out jagged shadows, hearing threatening gales and more than playful winds whisk through the molten tree stumps. He didn't want to find out what lay ahead. He wanted to wake up. But this was the way the path led, and Finn knew with a certainty that this is the way that his dream wanted him to go.
Taking a breath of cold air, he exhaled wintry dragon smoke, and stepped forward into the foggy depths ahead. Shapes loomed ahead of him- giant shards of ice, reflecting a ebbing, quiet blue light, skulking in tendrils of mist. Finn shivered, and moved in between them along the path, a tiny shadow dwarfed by frozen giants that creaked and groaned in the otherwise eerie silence.
Finn felt like crying here, in this soulless place. Somehow he knew it was his fault, that the flames which mesmerizingly licked up the branches of the forest before were forever extinguished. He would never be party to their infectious scorch again. His toes were cold as they trod over bitter frost, hail stinging his ears like the nagging remembrance of regret. A single tear slid down his cheek, and he remembered something- that after all he was only a water spirit. It couldn't be helped.
Lost in wallowed sadness, he was suddenly startled by the distant sound to his left. A hunting horn? An itching rose up Finn's chest as he recognized the noise, uncomfortable but not unpleasant. The sound of water droplets trembling to the ground came to his attention, and to his right an ice shard slid in half, the top of the thawing mass dropping to the ground with a loud thud. The mist began to clear, small rivulets of melted snow trickling across the ground beneath him.
Looking down to this, Finn suddenly jumped, startled. His once soft pink human feet were covered in white fur, stone like claws resting at the ends of his toes. He padded further along the path to a newly formed puddle, and stared down into the hazy reflection of a great white bear. Blinking his eyes slowly, Finn the Bear slowly pressed a paw to the surface, sending the wobbling image spiraling out in every direction. His attention was caught again by the sound of the horn, closer this time. It was a sound heavy with both the threat of the chase and the blood pumping thrill of the hunt.
It made his ears twitch and his paws ache to run. So run he did. Dropping to all fours, he lumbered heavy and wild into a verdant thicket, alive with the sounds of crickets and the scents of sweet nectars and pine needles. He ran faster and faster, his bear paws beating against the loamy ground, his heart in his throat. He felt powerful, here in this deep evergreen, lost among the tangles of vines and fig trees. He felt in control.
Harder and harder he ran, gasping lungfuls of air that felt like breathing pure wilderness. The clear notes of a flute swam out to him across the trees, and for a moment Finn thought it was his heart, singing out the peace of the tall pines which flashed past him like columns of a long forgotten empire.
He ran still towards the hypnotizing sounds, and his strong bear legs carried his hopeful heart into deeper woods, laced with more twilight, more dark and lovely sights and sounds. He suddenly stopped, digging his claws into the soft untrod earth. A clearing was before him, small and waving slightly with wildflowers, delicate constructs of purples, blues, reds. They were striking against the sunset smeared sky, the shivering sun sliding down an already star strung sky, a cloak of oranges and golds fading at its back.
Finn stood there, breathless as a bear boy can be, stepping to the center of the moon ready grasses, the nodding blooms tickling his fur covered knees. It was beautiful. A cool breeze rustled soothingly in his tangled coat.
A vine curled up from the ground before him lazy and green, and as he looked down to it a tendril stroked his cheek in a gentle motion. Finn felt himself leaning into the plant's touch, and it's roots began to thicken, stems winding on stems, until a leafy figure stood before him.
The delicately formed hand on his cheek caressed the velvet fur there before dropping to the figures side. Finn leaned forward, unafraid, and stretched out his neck to touch his wet black nose to the hair of the figure, waxy leaves that smelt intoxicating. Suddenly he froze, an inch away, as from underneath the rich foliage opened a pair of huge emerald eyes, catlike and eternally evergreen.
She stared at him, like two lamps lit in a coal black night, unforgivingly beautiful. Finn was terrified and mesmerized, rooted in place, mouth agape. The sunset above him was grey and irrelevant, and he felt so vulnerable to the verdant gaze piercing his unprepared soul.
Then she spoke, in a voice like birdsong and the dark svelte of rich moss.
"Finn."
He felt his breath catch and his heart stop.
Never breaking her gaze, the forest temptress leaned forward and placed her willowy arms on his huge, savagely muscled bear shoulders. Then she began to peel. It felt strange, the heavy skin being lifted off his back, but so good, his vulnerable naked boy skin exposed to the warm and silken night breeze. She slung the white fur off him and over her own shoulders, a delicately yet deeply green vision draped in tousled white fur. His fur. Finn felt the familiar strands of his golden hair fall around his face like a regal covering, glimmering and tangled down his back. He felt clean.
Still enchanted by the maiden's eyes, he watched, heart thudding in his chest as she looped a lock of his hair round a elegant finger, bringing it between their inch apart noses.
"You're an exceptional beast and you have great hair."
Her breath was sweet, like morning dew.
"Uhh... "
Finns eyes were wide open locked onto hers. His heart was caught in his mouth. The moon shone bright and silver above the entangled forest dwellers, and the only sound was the whistle of the wind, ancient and knowing, as it rocked the branches of the trees above.
Rocked the branches of the trees above.
Trees above.
With a gasp, Finn awoke to darkness, a tapping noise on the window pane to his right. Could that be..? No... Just a leafy twig reminding him that dreams are dreams. Reminding him that reality is far less forgiving, far less mystifying. He closed his eyes briefly, trying sear the memory of fragrant hair and luminous eyes into his brain, trying not to forget.
A candle struck up with a hiss across the room, and the round shape of Finn's more magical brother Jake was cast in giant form on the walls above their heads. In the dim glow he could make out a bleary eyed and confused dog.
"Dude, you okay?"
Finn sighed deeply, as he lay back in his bed of various animal skins.
"Yeah. I just had one of those dreams where you know... you wish the Cosmic Owl showed up."
Jake chuckled and blew out the candle, followed by the noise of rustling blankets.
"Yeaaah, alright Buddy, I getcha."
Finn sighed again, and turned over on his side, already beginning to drift off into his next dream laced adventure. But as he lost himself in the land of hopes, fears, and memories past, the scent of summer rain and mossy pines still hummed about his mind.
Somewhere in the far distance, a flute trickled over leafy groves, calling out to the white of the moon.
Thanks for reading yo.
