[Qrow's dreams aren't usually quite....this interactive. It's a little bit freaky, if he's honest, and part of him all but wonders if the last month and a half haven't actually been real at all and he's been trapped in some kind of illusory semblance since the Battle of Haven. The sharp fangs that brush against his tongue even now seem to be a counterpoint to that, along with the Aura he still can't feel, but .... ah well. Nothing for it either way, right now.
He's wandering around the streets of this place, feeling odd stings of something like--not nostalgia, but maybe deja vu at the notion of being called a nomad, thinking of a time when the nomadic tribe he traveled with was all he'd ever known of family. It's not entirely a pleasant time to remember, so maybe he's a little extra grouchy when some well-meaning local shoves him at the nearest unbonded witch.]
For the last time, I told you I'm not interested in--
[He knows that voice. Red eyes widen and he whips his head back, looking at a shock of white hair that doesn't belong. That body is dead. He's speechless a long moment, staring at the form of Professor Ozpin where Oscar should be, and for a moment he's anxious that someone is messing with him. Thinks of his mirror, with Ozpin's emblem on it among the others that were important to him, thinks of that kid telling him Nessie could read minds, and then he breathes out. It's just a dream. Just a stupid dream. Even if it isn't, Oz would tell him to stay calm. To act like nothing's amiss while keeping his guard up.]
Geez. I really must've been lonely. [It's a bare mutter, under his breath, before he scrounges up a playful smirk from somewhere.] Mmm, I think that much can be arranged, Oz.
marketplace A
He's wandering around the streets of this place, feeling odd stings of something like--not nostalgia, but maybe deja vu at the notion of being called a nomad, thinking of a time when the nomadic tribe he traveled with was all he'd ever known of family. It's not entirely a pleasant time to remember, so maybe he's a little extra grouchy when some well-meaning local shoves him at the nearest unbonded witch.]
For the last time, I told you I'm not interested in--
[He knows that voice. Red eyes widen and he whips his head back, looking at a shock of white hair that doesn't belong. That body is dead. He's speechless a long moment, staring at the form of Professor Ozpin where Oscar should be, and for a moment he's anxious that someone is messing with him. Thinks of his mirror, with Ozpin's emblem on it among the others that were important to him, thinks of that kid telling him Nessie could read minds, and then he breathes out. It's just a dream. Just a stupid dream. Even if it isn't, Oz would tell him to stay calm. To act like nothing's amiss while keeping his guard up.]
Geez. I really must've been lonely. [It's a bare mutter, under his breath, before he scrounges up a playful smirk from somewhere.] Mmm, I think that much can be arranged, Oz.