Trish's dreams were a combination of half remembered places that were more like memories than dreams. She could hear the rushing water in the cave she was inside, could see the bright sun as it shone. She remembered walking out of the cave and seeing…...a ton of cats?
Now that she was awake from the vivid dream, it felt weird. Like she had been transferred to one world and then another. One thing she recalled from her dream was that her mother was there, pointing out one of the cats, saying that his name was Stoneteller and he "shared tongues" with The Tribe Of Endless Hunting. What kind of nonsense was that? Where did her brain even come up with that?
"Trish? Are you listening?" Bucciarati's voice was gentle as he spoke.
"Yes," Trish replied shakily. "You- you said my father tried to kill me."
"We're going to protect you," the capo assured her.
"Okay." Trish placed her hand on her head. All of this information was hurting her brain. She could still hear the rushing water from the waterfall in her dream, see the mountains across the cliffs she had stood on. Rushing water- something about those two words nagged her. Why? What was it about them?
"Do you want to be left alone?" Bucciarati asked. "If you need time to process this, it's okay. Or do you want to sleep? You look tired."
"No. I'm okay." She didn't want to sleep and end up back in that strange dream world again.
"Okay. I'll stay with you for a bit." The capo gently placed his hand over hers.
He risked his life to save me, Trish thought. And he doesn't even know me. Why would he do that?
Unknown to Trish, Bucciarati had had a dream that involved cats too- the night before the gang reached the church to deliver Trish to her father. Bucciarati's own father had been in his dream. He had been standing in the grass near a river, watching the cats swim in it.
"That's strange," he had told his father. "Usually cats don't like water."
"Some cats are special," Paolo told his son. "RiverClan cats enjoy the water. Just like you and I."
"Where did they come from?"'
"They're descendants of the ancient Tribe cats."
Bucciarati glanced at Paolo. What on Earth was he talking about?
"That's part of the reason we feel drawn toward the ocean- toward water in general. These cats are fishermen, like us."
"What are you talking about?"
"RiverClan is where-" And that was when Bucciarati woke up, unable to hear what his father was going to say to him. RiverClan, he thought to himself. What an odd dream.
Outside of the turtle, Narancia was keeping an eye on the sky with his stand Aerosmith. He too had had a dream involving cats, this one involving standing in a gorge with his mother, looking down at the cats.
"Wow! They're like a colony of cats," he had exclaimed.
His mother smiled at him. "Not a colony. A Clan."
He looked down at the cats, but his mother's voice distracted him again.
"Have you ever wondered why your stand can take to the sky like it does, Narancia? That's because this Clan is called SkyClan."
He frowned. "What does this Clan of cats have to do with my stand?"
"Don't you feel drawn toward SkyClan, Nara?" She asked him.
"Yes, but-" And just like Bucciarati, he had woken up without getting an answer.
For Giorno, it was more like a vision than a dream. When they had reached the tower and Bucciarati had gone inside with Trish, he noticed cats hanging out near the dock, and that stirred his memory of his dream. Something about a hairless cat named Rock showing him a camp of cats deep in a forest.
"Welcome," the hideous cat had meowed.
Giorno couldn't explain it, but he felt like he belonged there- but he knew he had a mission to attend to back home.
"Why are you showing me this place, Rock?"
The hairless cat never answered the question, just fixed Giorno with his sightless stare and replied, "This is ThunderClan." And then Giorno had snapped out of it.
Like Giorno, Fugo had his dream while the gang was inside the turtle on the train, but he remembered it. In it, he was walking down an alleyway of cats, who narrowed their eyes suspiciously at him. His grandmother walked beside him.
"Grandma, where are we?"
"BloodClan," she responded, as if it was an answer that made any of sort of sense.
"BloodClan?"
"Panni, I want you to know that StarClan and I are always looking out for you," his grandmother told him, ignoring his question.
"StarClan? BloodClan? Grandma, what the hell are you talking about?"
Fugo had awoken before his grandmother could reply. Now that Fugo had separated from the gang, feeling hurt and angry, he remembered his grandmother's words. Grandma, StarClan, he prayed. Help me.
As he walked down the alleyways, he looked for one like the one in his dream.
Abbacchio also had his dream on the train. He was standing on marshy land, looking around the Clan of cats. One of them was standing beside him.
"So you've come to see ShadowClan, finally," the black she-cat meowed.
"What?" Abbacchio asked.
"I'm Shadowstar, the first leader of ShadowClan."
"Why am I here?"
"I brought you here. You and your friends need to recognize these places," the Clan leader answered.
"Why? What's going on?"
"You don't need to worry. StarClan will always light your path." That was when he had awoken.
For Mista, the dream had come the day after the fiasco with the Rolling Stones stand, and the day before Giorno joined the gang. He was standing on the moor, the wind making him feel free. He watched the cats roam around him, and that was when one of them padded over to him.
"Mista," the brown she-cat meowed. "We have been waiting for you."
"How do you know my name?"
"I'm Windstar, the first leader of WindClan," the she-cat replied, ignoring his question.
"WindClan? What's that?"
"Ask the others about their dreams. This involves them too." After hearing that, he woke up.
One thing the group had in common was that these dreams made them feel like they had been in a whole different world. Now, however, in a boat escaping from the mafia boss (or in Fugo's case, walking back to Naples alone), they were back in their real world. And their reality was that they were trying to survive as mafiosos.
