My brain finally catches up and I turn hurtling between the trees, my silk sleep shorts and shirt tangling in the hanging and fallen branches.
A howl fills the air, followed by two more.
Shit! Was the hot forest man slash psycho really letting his overgrown dogs hunt me? Like for sport? Cause I’d bet the stupid beasts weren’t really hungry.
A slap from a low-hanging branch makes me lose track of the thought and I turn my sole focus on making my barely there legs work on getting me the fuck out of this bizarre world.
Could you run out of a dream?
I was still pretty sure I was dreaming, because one, this place was too bizarre to exist, even with there being supernatural folks and stuff and the second was that the man was too beautiful to exist, dangerous yes, but my eyes still worked fine.