[ Hei's eyes widen a fraction. His hands fly to his face as if to rub them. From day to night -- he should expect it, it's part of the mercurial dreamscape. But despite himself, he jerks up, peering through the tangle of leaves at the starlight. There's a brief glance at Aang -- dubious, questioning, Did you do this? -- before he starts walking again, along the trail of thick trees that leads out to open skies and a white curve of beach. The view is amazing up and down, the twinkling bed of stars sinking into the dark restless ocean. ]
[ He tries to catch familiar constellations. Some navigational trick to pinpoint his location. There's none. This is the idealistic beachy setting he's never enjoyed, not with anyone. Not since Heaven's Gate appeared, that happy childhood evening he'd shared with Pai. That had ended all his moments of whimsy. Where other people daydreamed of moonlit strolls on the seashore with a companion, nowadays Hei conjures pleasant moments of solitude and unexistence. ]
[ Not death, but some kind of oblivion beyond effort and struggle. ]
[ Quietly, gaze on the sky, he says: ] If my dreams were like this, I'd wake up in a much better mood. [ Except these aren't his dreams. Spectacular as the scenery is, he's ready to find a way out. ]
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[ He tries to catch familiar constellations. Some navigational trick to pinpoint his location. There's none. This is the idealistic beachy setting he's never enjoyed, not with anyone. Not since Heaven's Gate appeared, that happy childhood evening he'd shared with Pai. That had ended all his moments of whimsy. Where other people daydreamed of moonlit strolls on the seashore with a companion, nowadays Hei conjures pleasant moments of solitude and unexistence. ]
[ Not death, but some kind of oblivion beyond effort and struggle. ]
[ Quietly, gaze on the sky, he says: ] If my dreams were like this, I'd wake up in a much better mood. [ Except these aren't his dreams. Spectacular as the scenery is, he's ready to find a way out. ]