Constantine stepped into Leaf's room, taking in the sight of Leaf dissipating and reforming, the slow, painful process. He shut the door behind him, pulling his coat off and folding it on the ground by Leaf's bed after pulling a few items from the pockets. First came two rings of sea salt- one on the floor around the bed, and the second in a large oval around his coat. He then crouched, adding runes around the borders that flared with magic once complete, along with a line of them connecting the two circles. The magician then laid down in his circle, using his coat as a pillow, and shut his eyes. Astral projecting was difficult, even when trained, and a strain on the body at the best of times. However... He let his breathing even out, drawing himself up and out of his body, and slipping along the runic line to Leaf- into the other man's dreams. - @johncon
They were chaos. They were order. They were a tornado. They were a summer's breeze. They were everything. They were nothing. Feel everything- hear everything- The gusts to through The Meadows, the breath in people's lungs, the flap of a butterfly's wing.
It was too much- too bright- too loud but none of these. It wasn't touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing. Different and new and-
