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The heavy whumph and flap of multiple wings ends in the clatter of claws on the ridgepole of the house as a massive Nightmare settles himself nto the mossy shingles. Down there, down in the house, there is his Dreamer-to-be, the boy he was admonished to protect, the source and balm of all his wounds.

K'tah sidles steps sideslips into the mind of his Dreamer's son, winds himself in, feeling the bond click into place in the huge void of him, and begins to sing.

Below, in the house, Prox absentmindedly sings; a child's song, a nursery rhyme, words he didn't even know he knew. A nursery rhyme sung to a Dreamborn child.

The words fall into the space left for them in the spell. The impenetrable bony wall that held a great weight of memory back for so long thins, turns, slips silky and gossamer, and falls with a whisper.

There is a great cascade of memory. The elder feline staggers and grabs the counter to keep himself from falling to his knees, shocked by the tumbling fall of memory, of events ten years ago that hold the new raw immediacy of yesterday.

Teratus hunches and puffs, beak open, nearly passing out from the sudden ache. He holds back the flood from the other Dreams; as Eldest, it is his responsibility to protect his flock.