Originally Posted by
Rebonack
"Ha! Yes, that's certainly a true statement if ever I've heard one," Ibby laughs. "Though I can't help but wonder, why frogs? When I think 'absolute pure chaos' frogs really aren't the first thing that leaps to mind, if you'll pardon the pun."
No frog puns, Ibby.
Bad!
No!
"The Dreamheart is... well... defining it is difficult, as a lack of definition summarizes it quite nicely. Perhaps the closest thing one could call it is a place of absolute creative potential. Everything there is mercurial, inasmuch as whatever can be found there are even considered things." This makes it very hard to describe in any concrete terms, as might be imagined. "Fae of a sort spring forth from the Dreamheart, taking on some measure of identity in the Dreamlands from where they occasionally come burrowing up into reality like termites through the foundation of a house."
"Ehehe, termites? That seems like an awfully rude analogy!" comes a small, adorable sounding voice from the rafters.
Ibby studiously ignores it.
"Nothing concrete can survive the touch of the Dreamheart. Substance, identity, even the most basic of natural laws come unwound there," Ibby concludes.
"It's like a big pile of yarn!" comes the voice from the rafters.
Ibby scowls upward. "It is not like a big pile of yarn. That analogy fails on so many levels that it's wholly without merit."
"It's totally like a big pile of yarn!" the voice insists. Should Michalson turn his gaze rafterward, he may spy a cat-sized creature looking down at them. It's head bears a resemblance at once to goat and a feline, bearing large pitch-black eyes and a wide, toothy, cheshire grin. Maph'Tey, resident pooka, and eternally obnoxious source of Random Encounters at the Trog's. "You could knit a sweater out of it, if you felt like making something nice. Or maybe knit a world out of it, if you felt like making something awful."