There was a girl, of course, the archetype I like, kind of insane, definitely something wrong with her, goth adjacent, pale skin, black hair, wearing black clothes, oversized sweater, jeans, no makeup or piercings though.
The type of girl Freddy Kruger would complain about to his therapist. Enjoys drinking heavily in a cemetery at night, can't hold a conversation without mentioning death, constant sour expression, acts clinically depressed, might be, won't talk about it.
In other words, frustratingly droll, lightheartedly macabre, one of my favorite recurring dream character types. Anyway, she's unavailable because she's basically led around by an older protective man. I try to talk to her but it's not going to happen.
Whatever the hell kind of dog this is passes her by, but the dog is scary somehow, like a eldritch horror of a dog, she doesn't care. But then the dog howls a blood curling sound straight out of hell and she grips tightly onto that man, "good dog." She eeps.
It's my dog. I'm basically this.
It gets weird from there, the dog and I are caught up in a nightmare of epic proportions, first nightmare in years, but I'm really good at stopping nightmares and it turns into a lucid dream. I start to fly about and try to call a fine woman into my dream but that's not working so I just fly over the crashing waves at the beach until I get bored.
