Awareness came slowly, subtly. She could feel her toes, cold in their boots. Her butt was slightly damp from the cold, solid ground on which she sat. Her left ear and cheek were particularly icy from the wind tugging at her hair. Strangely enough, her right side was comfortably warm. She moved her fingers. They were oddly constricted, and wrapped in warmth as well... no, she was holding a hand. Realization hit her abruptly.

“No. No. No...” she muttered and turn slowly, hoping she was wrong.

A solid, male figure sat beside her, his shoulders hunched forward, head hung with his thick mass of hair obscuring his face. It didn’t matter, though. She didn’t need to see the face to know who it was. There was no mistaking that mop of hair. She studied that hand that held hers, it was distinctly his. She knew every inch of those scarred, damaged fingers. She gave his hand a firm squeeze before looking around. It was comforting to have him here, despite the fact that he should not be.

It was an all too familiar setting. The moon’s glow filtered through the thick haze touched the landscape just enough to hint at their surroundings. They sat upon a frost kissed grassy knoll leading down to a black mass of water. That haunting, churning river of icy depths. She sighed, her breath a thick puff swirling out before her as she stared out over the landscape. Why would she be here again, better yet. Why would THEY be here? She wondered, shivering before turning back to Rand’s silent form.

He was stirring now, coming aware of his surroundings as she had. Watching him made her heart clench. Had she known she was capable of pulling him into the dreamwalk, she would have never taken the risk, never have let him stay by her through the night. His proximity, his concern for her had brought him into an unpredictable situation, and she cursed herself for it.

This was her duty, her challenge. She had been told she couldn’t die in a dreamwalk. Despite that fact, when she dreamwalked, all she experienced was real. Even if she awoke in her own bed as if it were only a dream, there were effects on the real world. Rand was undeniable proof that what she did in her dreams effected those who’s lives she touched. It was proven again to her the previous night and many times before, that the physical effects of her dreamwalk carried on into her waking world.

Watching her friend awaken beside her on the other side of a dream, she felt a certain amount of sickening dread. She didn’t know how the rules, if there were any, would apply to him. She’d surely pulled him in thanks to their clasped hands. That had been their link. Would he awaken if she wasn’t touching him when the time came? Could he be trapped here, never to awake in his true form, his real body again?