Too much CSI and Forbidden Dimension

[d20hound]

The entirety of this dream is uncomfortable, cramped, limited. It feels like everything is pressing in on me from all sides. It makes me feel like lashing out. It's damp and dark and cold. I can hear dogs growling and fighting. The ground is hard dirt, a bit muddy, under a half-bed of leaves and branches. It's uneven. It trips and drags at my feet. Lurches me towards the old brick wall of a building. You step around the corner, dirty. Your hair is a mess, some of it pulled down, dirty locks framing a mud-streaked face. You are holding something in your hands, but I can't make it out as it is tangled in the dark clothes you are wearing. But I can hear the metal of it when it hits the side of the building, there's not enough room in this dream for both of us and the building. You half-smile up at me as I push past you, biting the right side of your lower lip, making it clean and swollen. I push the shovel that you are holding aside with my knee and see the hole you've dug in the hard ground - a grave. I look back at you and you are standing further away now, half behind a tree, leaning against it. It is pressing against you, as though there is no other room to be besides there. There are empty graves all around us as we walk in between the buildings, your hands are blistered and torn from digging them.

I'm watching dogs fight. They are tearing at each other. Blood is spraying across the leaves and branches, animals smashing into the bare trunks of winter trees. I pick up a ruined animal, blood, fur, hunks of meat. And throw it in the first grave. Knowing that it's not enough. The graves are being fed by the flesh of the dying dog, but hungers for stronger fare.