A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

Welcome Back! It's time for our 20th Start of Term!

 #29504  by Prairie Dalton
Location: The Dalton's Home • Date: July 2023
Time of Day: 2 am • Weather: Clear Skies

The nightmare was always the same. Paralyzed and cold, she hung from the edge of a cliff. Fear would be swept away when eventually she would realize her dreadful fate. Unable to pull herself up, a shadowy figure would come. Hope would leave a bitter taste in her mouth when the figure would stand on her hands, squishing her fingers until she fell. And fell. And fell.

She woke up in her bed. The immense pressure on her chest prevented her from moving. Terrified that the nightmare might snatch her back into darkness Prairie did not dare to close her eyes. With a few whimpering breaths she attempted to find reassurance in the familiar moonlit shapes of her surroundings. Close to the window stood an easel her mother had installed arguing that inspiration could strike in the middle of the night. A large antic dresser could be seen standing not too far from the feet of her bed. A little mountain of books towered above her bedside table.

When her breathing had returned to normal, Prairie managed to sit. Resigned and shaken, she realized that her nightmares had won. Wearing a black and purple checkered onesie her mother had sowed, the teenager got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. Once a cup of camomile tea was fuming Prairie took it and quietly traveled outside. The humid summer breeze barely soothed her as she sat on one of the large porch benches.
 #29524  by Margot Dalton
Margot had never been a good sleeper. Her mind never seemed to slow down enough for her to fully relax, and whenever she slept, she always slept fitfully, or was plagued by dreams. Not inherently bad dreams, but dreams that left her mentally exhausted the next day. Even when Prairie was born and had spent her first year keeping both she and Marley up until the early hours of the morning, Margot stilled struggled to sleep, when she was felt so exhausted she was unsure she would ever wake up again.

She had of course come to the conclusion that Prairie had inherited her sleeping pattern long before the girl had even learned to talk, even if shared no DNA with her. It was learned behavior it seemed, or just share dumb luck, which couldn't be true considering how lucky Marley liked to say they were. Prairie was her daughter however, whether they shared DNA or not, and her daughter took after her in many ways, like using chamomile tea to calm down after a horrible nightmare. It was after all, what Margot had come in search for after a rather frightening dream. Something she hadn't had in a long time but it was always the same. The same lifeless body of her wife laying across the hospital bed and a squalling baby in her arms. It was the only nightmare she had now, ever since that dreadful day, but as Prairie had grown, the less and less it plagued her. Tonight was the first time in nearly a year.

Margot poured herself a cup of chamomile, she sipped it as she moved outside to where she would find her daughter.

"Bad dream?" She asked as she took a seat next to Prairie.
 #29573  by Prairie Dalton
Attempting to confirm her mother's suspicions without worrying her, Prairie smiled delicately. "You too," she observed as she noticed the fuming cup in her mother's hand.

Knowing that nearby there was someone who shared her sleep pattern was something
she had missed while she had been at Hogwarts. Being surrounded by good sleepers only added to her frustration. The nightmares had only become a concern a few months ago, she had thought about writing about in an owl, but the thought of facing her mother's insistence that her dream should be analyzed had made her keep the situation to herself. "Doesn't it frustrate you to see how deeply mamo sleeps?"
 #29586  by Margot Dalton
Margot took a sip of her tea and the placed it on the small table Marley has constructed out of old pellets. Each piece had been painted a different colour, and on the top were three blue handprints, one for each of them. Prairie’s was a small print, made when she had just turned two, but it was still hers, and it made Margot smile whenever she looked at it.

Turning in her seat, she began to run her hand up and down her daughters back rhythmically, comfortingly, “With a lot of envy,” She said with a soft smile. “Your mother has always been a very good sleeper, so much in fact that I worried that she wouldn’t wake to you at night when you were born.” It had been a legitimate worry of Margot’s, something Marley had picked up on in her third trimester, but those fears had all but disappeared when Prairie was born. Marley had spent nearly two months in hospital after their daughters birth, and Margot had woken to Prairie every night by herself. When Marley had eventually come home, it had taken another two months for her to be able to wake to Prairie alone, but she had never needed to. They’d done it together. Always had. Even when Marley had been still at St. Mungo’s, Margot had still visited every day with Prairie.

“Did you have a nightmare, my sweets?” Margot asked worriedly.
 #29591  by Prairie Dalton
"There's this... Dream," she ended up describing despite the fear it instilled in her. "I'm hanging from a cliff," her fingers clutched at the fabric covering her knees as if the mere description of her nightmare brought her back to that moment. "Someone comes up to me and I am convinced they will help me, but they just stand there." She shook her head but kept staring in the distance as the vicious dream played on and on inside her mind. "When finally they approach, they stand on my fingers until I am forced to let go."

Shivering, she brought the cup of tea closer to her chest.
 #29598  by Margot Dalton
Brushing a strand of hair away from Prairie’s face, she tucked it behind the girls ear and then let her hand run down her arm until she could thread their fingers together.

She wanted to tell her daughter that it was just a dream, that she should just forget about it and that it didn’t mean anything, but Prairie was her mother’s daughter, and neither one of them would ever listen to her when it came to such things.

“Have you spoken to your mother about this?” She asked, though she already knew the answer. If Prairie had talked about this with Marley beforehand, Margot wouldn’t be finding out just now.
 #29600  by Prairie Dalton
Prairie shook her head. She usually told her mothers everything. Admitting to having kept something from them made her feel guilty. "She will want to understand what the dream means," the young woman explained as her eyes betrayed her fear. What if it conveyed a tragic omen?
 #29602  by Margot Dalton
Margot peered at her daughter, “What do you think it means, sweetheart?” Asking Prairie what she thought about her nightmare was probably opening herself up to a whole slew of things she didn’t feel comfortable handling without Marley guiding her, but her daughter was obviously hurting and as her mother, Margot’s hurt ached for her.
 #29603  by Prairie Dalton
"I don't know," she whispered. She had consulted a few books, she had even meditated yet the meaning of her nightmares had eluded her. "It feels so real," she held her mother's hand a little tighter, desperately clutching at it as if it was the only thread keeping her on the cliff.

"I don't want to know," she rubbed her eyes. Because deep down, she already knew there was no meaning to be found.
 #29777  by Margot Dalton
The healer nodded, wrapping her free hand around her daughter, she kissed the top of her head, "It's just a dream darling. I know your Mamo won't agree with me, but I'm sure it doesn't mean anything." Or at least, that's what Margot liked to think. It didn't matter that Marley had dreamed about Prairie's birth when they'd first gotten pregnant. Divination was never something she'd ever truly believed in, even with Marley and Margot's unique abilities, but trying to find truth in a dream would do no one any good.

"Drinking your tea darling, it will help you sleep."
 #29779  by Prairie Dalton
Prairie rested her head on her mother's shoulder. In this case, she had to agree with her mother. Her dream had not been one with a hidden meaning, it had been a clear warning. Fearing that expressing such a thought might just make it all the more real, she kept it for herself.

Though she nodded, she did not bring the cup of tea to her lips. Head still resting on her mother's shoulder, she tried to reassure herself by focusing on the familiar surroundings. The chicken coop in the distance, the large flower bushes send sing sweet summer scents in the breeze, her mother's slow, steady breathing... "What was your nightmare?"
 #29841  by Margot Dalton
Reaching her own mug, she let it rest on her knee as she pulled her daughter into her more. Once upon she would have tucked the girl into her lap and drawn patterns on her face as they spoke about nonsense, but now Margot had to settle for a one armed hold and the girls head tucked neatly beneath her chin. She has always loved it when Prairie would press her ear to her chest to listen to her heart beat as a young girl. She said it calmed her as it certainly had on nights when she’d refused to sleep and Margot had had no choice but to bring her into their bed. She would lay tiny Prairie on her chest, and the girl would be asleep in an instance. Margot wondered whether that was what she was doing now.

Looking down at her daughter, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “It wasn’t really a nightmare. More like a silly dream,” She lied. “I was running late for work and whenever I tried to floo, I would end up in random places, no matter how well I pronounced my words.” It was blatant lie, but they’d never told Prairie about her entrance in the world and how close they had come to loosing Marley. It had been a request Margot had made when Marley finally came home, and she had agreed that informing their daughter that she nearly killed her Mamo was not something she ever needed to know.
 #29913  by Prairie Dalton
Curating immense trust in her mothers, Prairie did not distinguish the lie. "That would be panic-inducing," the young woman agreed as she imagined herself in that scenario.

After a long silence, Prairie finally reached for her cup of tea. She could have pulled away from her mother's embrace, but the blanket-like reassurance it offered felt too comforting to abandon. Prairie took a few sips of the lukewarm liquid. "You think we could go to that used bookstore you like this weekend?" Prairie requested. At times, she felt that she often did activities pertaining to her mamo's interest. Without feeling as though she neglected her mum, she did feel that they spent less time doing things she truly enjoyed.
 #30079  by Margot Dalton
"The one in downtown London?" She asked her daughter, smiling as she pictured her favourite bookstore. It always smelt like grass with a mix of vanilla, a fragrance Marley had once told her was the make-up of that 'old book' smell she loved so dearly. She visited there every two weeks, had quite the library of her own in the attic. Books had always been her guilty pleasure, and she had very much enjoyed taking Priarie there when she was younger. When she had started at Hogwarts, their time spent together at the old bookstore had lessened, and now they rarely went unless Margot asked the girl to tag along when she was home during the holidays. Pleased that Prairie was asking to go without having been prodded beforehand, she kissed the top of her daughters head.

Margot squeezed Prairie a little tighter to her side, "Of course. They've painted it since you last came with me. A nice olive green."
 #30086  by Prairie Dalton
Prairie could easily imagine the old crooked walls in their new olive tint.

Like her mother, Prairie loved the smell of old books. More than that, she loved words and the journey they offered.

Nestled into her mother's embrace Prarie closed her eyes. Hopefully, the rest of the night would be eventless.