it’s some sort of pagan commune/vacation home.  there are about a dozen of us.  we have our own dorm rooms and the hallways are tight and dark.  one room enters another realm.  anyone can go in.  once there, you sit on a bed and drink the tea on the nightstand.  it’s hot and sour.  once you’ve finished the mug, you wait.  the alien-fey will gift you with visions or they won’t.  they didn’t for me.  i sat in that rainforest garden on a soft bed for a long time before giving up and going back to my room.  i saw the creatures when i was looking into the realm, but not once i was in it.  oh well.  i’m not ready anyway, i suppose.  i was too cautious to drink the whole mug. once the visions start you have no control over stopping them.  you don’t know what will be shown, if it will be pleasant or gruesome.  i thought i had drank enough to feel something.  maybe not.
After a while of being bored in my room, i decide to give it another shot. i go up the narrow stairs to the doorway at the top and stop there.  laying on the bed is a very tiny Thorn.  she is covered in a mosquito net and she is either sleeping or tranced out.  i think she’s sleeping.  the air is hazy and the air tastes of wet greenery.  i go downstairs and knock on the door of her lover.  he answers and is baffled by my worry.  he is a very large tall man in his 50s or 60s with long white hair and a face covered by his beard and mustache.  he wears a motorcycle shirt with a faded denim vest and jeans that haven’t been washed in years.  on his head is a diadem: a single black cord around his head, its only ornament is an onyx stone that sits in the middle of his forehead.  against the black of the stone is a silver inverted pentagram, the bottom point is rounded. he tells me that she doesn’t want anything serious and he respects that. she is a strong woman and he doesn’t want to make her feel inferior by watching over her. he reacts with pure compassion and concern and i see why she is attracted to him. i tell him i understand his view, but she’s totally knocked out and i feel uneasy leaving her there. could he maybe just go check in once in a while? it would make me feel better.  he nods and takes on my worry.
downstairs in our living room i tell someone (seth?) to put the jumper on jasper.  i don’t want him getting cold.  he protests but says ok.  minutes later i see jasper walk in without anything on him.  following him is a very tiny cat wearing a green wrestling singlet.  i think it’s a kitten at first, but by its movement i can see that it’s not.  brett comes in and exclaims proudly, “it’s Gracie! We can have Gracie all over again!” not even the sight of my beloved tiny cat reborn can keep me from flinching at the word “we.” i feel woozy.