Just a dream?

As you nervously look about, you see that you are still in the clearing, under the same tree. A ray of sunlight indicates that it is morning. You look yourself over. Yep, you're still you... no tendrils, only the storage space you call a stomach. Speaking of your stomach, it is growling. 'Breakfast time,' you think, trying to push the odd dream from your memory.

Now, where is a hippo supposed to find food in the middle of nowhere?

Written by an anonymous author (edited by wanderer)

No more pages for this story line have been written yet. Use the link below to write one of your own!

Add your own new page to the story!

Back to the parent page

(This page has not yet been checked by the maintainers of this site.)