The leaves resist you, at first, but the dragonfly darts in front of you, and suddenly the leaves take hold of you, pulling you in. They hold you, gently, firmly, moving you as if you were as light as feather. The instinct to fight wells in you, and for a moment you try to scratch the stalks, tear the leaves with a thrashing movment. They are impervious, and even flutter against you, comfortingly. You relax, curious; they don't appear to mean any harm.
The movement lulls you, and when you find yourself deposited on the soft bank of a pool it startles you. A waterfall thunders lazily from the far left, but strangely the pool's surface is placid, smooth as a mirror. Through shades of blue, green and violet you see a white sand bottom imbedded with drawings... no.... impressions. Just as you beging to make them out you sense a presence. An otter is poised on the opposite bank, watching you. It tilts its head, grins and dives forward, sliding into the water like a tawny arrow. The water ripples as it enters, and the fur turns to trails of hair and skin. But it is the otter's head that surfaces, almost at your nose, and you realize that you've been leaning over the water. It splashes playfully, the cool drops landing on your face like a misty kiss, then it dives; a foot kicks the surface and you see the woman plunging towards the white sand.
It seems the most natural thing to follow, tumble into the water head first, the coolness drawing you forward. Then you are lost in the clarity, the colors have disappeard and see everything with an almost painful focus. A frog tumbles in front of you and hangs, suspended, it seems, in mid-air. You reach out to touch the brilliant green, and it darts away leaving a bubble trail to the surface. But your eyes are drawn downward, there is a trail of violet petals, tumbling as if they were carried by the wind. You follow them, and find the woman on the bottom, almost blended into the sand, and realize the impressions were of her. A smile plays on her lips and she taps the sand next to her, but none of it stirs. Flipping on your back you settle into the sand; it's velvet, warm, constrasting sharply with the chill of the water.
Above you can see the sky, tree branches blowing in the wind, shadows passing to and fro over the surface. The surface... questions began to bombard your thoughts. Why is the surface so calm? The waterfall hadn't disturbed it at all... as if the pool drank it in great gulps. Isn't she going to speak? Say anything? What are you watching for? A current moves against you, a touch, a word. "Listen."
You listen, and just when you are about to give up you hear soft echos. They move around you, through you, and there are no words, only images. They consume you, blanket you, for how long you don't know, but you are drawn out of it. Golden eyes peer at you, and then the deer drinks, its lips brushing your forhead. You've risen to the surface of the water. You can feel her still beside you, but before you can turn your head to look you are tugged forward by a sudden current, drawn up the waterfall. There are strange silver-blue fish fighting their way up beside you, their bodies brushing against you.
You are pulled up the river, trees flashing above, then towns that look vaguely familiar, then strange dark forests, twisted, bent in upon themselves, bright clearings bursting with wildflowers, a few cottages scattered on the banks. Then you spot a man ahead, and all you notice is the blindingly white hair, the narrow face, pale green eyes; there is a net in his hand made of the finest thread you've seen, golden in the light. He tosses it! The current shifts and surges forward; the net catches your foot, and wriggles free of its own volition.
You relax into the movement again, the scenery blurring, and you want to talk now. You want ask where you are heading? When you will arrive? You wonder if you open your mouth if the water will come rushing in and drown you.
There's an echo again, persitent. "It's a journey, not an arrival."
A journey to where?
"Everywhere. Anywhere."
You realize you are enjoying the travel, and fall quiet.
Abruptly something powerful sweeps by you. You surface, and the woman coughs once, takes a deep breath, and you hear her voice for the first time. A low growl, a rustle of fall leaves: "You like this game don't you?"
The huge brown bear snorts. "What game? I'm hunting."
"Me?" There is an edge to her voice.
"No." The bear licks his muzzle clean of a silver-blue scales. "Him."
She laughs, tossing her hair back. "Does he look like a fish?"
"Close enough."
"I would let you try, Bear." She smiled broadly. "If I didn't like your teeth so much."
You edge forward, menacingly, wanting the bear to see you have claws, and teeth too. He glares at you and shrugs. "Go on then." He snags another fish, and munches noisily.
You expect to go beneath the water again, but she moves past the bear, wading, and you follow. Only then do you notice another waterfall, a tall cliff. She enters the curtain of water, and begins to climb. You only pause for a moment, wondering if you can follow, and then you go. You find that you can grip the rocks easily, and the moss, that shouldn't be growing there, keeps your footing sure.
There is a cavern. The floor is firm, and the temperature so close to your own you feel like you are the air. You start forward again, moving towards a light. She's a penumbra in front of you, outlined in shadow, and you move to her side, curious to see what's ahead.