[ Hei exhales through his nose, short and shivery. The sensations of reality seep into his warping dreams. Images flash behind his heavy eyelids, except they're scents, tastes, touches too. New scenery: a greying twilight, with purple and blues, under boughs of trees. Somewhere in South America, the fireflies like ghostly thumbprints, the fruit bats chittering and mosquitos buzzing. He's de-shelled with someone under a milky veil of bug netting. The scent of greenery is almost overwhelmingly strong -- mixed up with the soft funky scent of girlflesh, taste of salt and sea. Hair tangled in his face, in the dark and light, its color indistinct. Amber? Korra? Maybe Yin? It's hard to tell. He can't see the girl's face, but her mouth is plump and sweet, the eyes dreamy and half-lidded. ]
[ With heavy hands, he reaches for her. His fingers tangle in something cold instead. Wispy strands mesh around his fingers, slipping through them like cornsilk. Tentacles? Vines? He isn't sure. He wishes it were brighter, so he could see the girl's face, see what his arms are trapped in. It's bothersome that he can't. Then the temperature and mood shifts, going ominous. He begins to be afraid. Tries to nudge the girl off, escape those slippery threads. But they're everywhere now, gluing him in place. Keeping him immobile as a fly in a web. There are hands on his skin, burrowing into it. Such cold fingers. Spreading chills, plucking at his fear, plucking at his flesh. ]
[ He tics and twitches against Korra, sighing and murmuring. Nothing audible, but it's clear he's coming awake. ]
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[ With heavy hands, he reaches for her. His fingers tangle in something cold instead. Wispy strands mesh around his fingers, slipping through them like cornsilk. Tentacles? Vines? He isn't sure. He wishes it were brighter, so he could see the girl's face, see what his arms are trapped in. It's bothersome that he can't. Then the temperature and mood shifts, going ominous. He begins to be afraid. Tries to nudge the girl off, escape those slippery threads. But they're everywhere now, gluing him in place. Keeping him immobile as a fly in a web. There are hands on his skin, burrowing into it. Such cold fingers. Spreading chills, plucking at his fear, plucking at his flesh. ]
[ He tics and twitches against Korra, sighing and murmuring. Nothing audible, but it's clear he's coming awake. ]