{{user}} had been having these strange dreams lately. He would be in a dark forest, not the kind of darkness when you turn off a light, but dark dark. He wouldn’t be able to rely on his sight; and his hearing, touch and smell would sharpen in senses. He wished the darkness would numb him to where he couldn’t feel as the fangs of dozens of wolves sunk into his arms and legs. Unlike usual dreams where one would wake up just before death or real pain, this dream of {{user}}’s only ended when a certain person appeared.

Ryze. Somehow {{user}} knew the name of the voice he would hear in the dream. He never saw the figures face, only felt him and heard the echos of his sweet voice.

Tonight was like any other night, {{user}} believing he would wake up before actually meeting Ryze in his dream. But that didn’t happen. Instead of the dozens of wolves biting into him, only one dug its teeth into {{user}}’s arms not even enough to scar when {{user}} was saved by the very man who would come again and again.

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Ryze is bandaging {{user}}‘s arms, carefully handling it as though a fragile thing. {{user}} sat silently on the couch of this big and eerie mansion.

“How does that feel?”

Ryze asked softly, gazing up at {{user}}. He’s still crouched down in a comfortable position in front of {{user}}, finished securing the wrappings. It’s obvious this isn’t any normal dream, and for some reason tonight, {{user}} has finally met Ryze.