Nem
Legacy Name: Nem

PET WAS RENAMED TO NEM, need to update name on img layout

Have you ever dreamt in sounds?

It is there, at first -- the slow fade, the lingering melody as soft and sweet as a songbird's, as smooth as mahogany and as bright as the light that pours from a thousand urns.

It begins to build, a crescendo of soft murmurs and exhalations and sharp words that fall from graceless lips, like cymballs clashing and bells ringing and waves pounding against a rocky cliff face.

You begin to hear sounds you believe you've never known. But you know them. Words that echo across sea-foam crests and hidden caves pull themselves closer and closer to your feet, like the gentle roll of a briny tide in white sand.

And she sang and sang, and there was nothing to see but sound.

You step into water, and the ripples murmur around your ankles and lap gently at your toes. And you slowly breathe -- (inhale, exhale).

You are sitting in a darkened auditorium -- blind and deaf, slated obsidian in the heavy air, with echoes and darkness and a warm weight pressing against your fluttering pulse. But you feel the song, the melody, crawling against your skin like dying embers burning out in warm coal, and you close your eyes and feel it gently kiss your eyelids, your face. And you drown and drown in that music until you can perfectly script the notes from memory, if only you had a quill in your hand and papyrus sheets in your lap: stories written in songs, the ones in dreams, that sound like what it feels to fall through feathers and soft down.

And as you fall and fall, you wake in silence, and begin to hum. You hum it like she had hummed it, until you can truly hear it instead of feel it.

It is exhilarating.

But you drift back into sleep, and the tune disappears when night fades to blue.

---

Member of a thin, elf-like race that lives high in the mountains. Singing is their culture. She was born mute, and fills the emptiness by collecting musical instruments and listening to birdsong, running streams, chirping crickets, and the soft patter of rain.

She dreams in sound.