I was sitting in a city square, listening to someone speak of a fair outside town, and telling use how to get there by bus. None of the people in attendance wanted to go by bus. Once the rally was over, we all started running. I ran much faster than everyone else.
While everyone was on this one road, I hopped up a bit to another road, and then again to another. The roads were on the side of a mountain, with trees between them. The top road, which I was now on, was next to a farm. I was distracted for a moment, and was hit by a car from behind. The blow tossed me toward the side of the road, where I grabbed at the fence next to me. I could barely move.
The fence was electric. I got quite a jolt from it, but the disturbance caught the attention of the farmer’s tomboy daughter. She came out and looked at me, she had long, blondish/brown hair, tied back. She was ready to call some form of animal control, but I spoke.
She was shocked at this, and carried me to her garage. She took care of me there, until I got better. She would let me into her house while her parents were away, and she’d feed me. The only other person who knew I was there was her little sister, who was so young, the only thing she could tell about me by looking at me was that I was just a larger version of her housecat. Nyu. (Imagine the little girl from Monsters, Inc. running around saying, “Kitty!”)
Once I was better again, she offered to give me more blankets, which could not fit in my pack. We went into her house one last time to find spare belts to tie the blankets too the pack. While we were about to leave, I look outside and see a news van coming. Apparently, they don’t see much of my kind around here. (Also, at this point in the dream, an Amtrak train barrels past).
They fear us, too. The father jumps out of the news van, along with a camera man and a female reporter. I dash into the garage to get my stuff. They slowly, but surely, follow me in.
The father starts to shoot at me, and swing things at me. I jump behind a table screaming, and throwing things at him. Doesn’t do much good. :\
Next dream, bhlaab and I are singing the Onett music while walking home at dusk.