Author's note: I know it's so "late" that nobody really remembers the story, but I'm sorry. I lied. I can't seem to finish this. Since I dont think its fair to leave the story how it was, I've decided to put up what little else I have written. More may be added later, but it's unlikely.

I appologise for the shortness.

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In his dream the world was all shadows. The junkyard had become a fearsome landscape of darkness, illuminated with patches of reddish haze and intermingled with the other places he frequented. A fish stand had sprouted beside the old ford, its produce rotten and worm-ridden. A sickly green pond turned the middle of the big clearing into a mud puddle, strange twisted reeds edging the stagnant water on the side closest to the tire. His footpaws were sinking into the mud at the edges, the dirt crawling with its own life and wriggling around his fur as though trying to worm its way into his body.

The part of his mind that knew he was dreaming, separated from the rest by years of concentration and practise, also knew that this dream was born of some anxiety. But as unpleasant as the nightmare was, he still found he couldn't wake. Trapped, the tom tossed and twitched in his sleep, forced to let the dream run its course.

A whiteish figure materialised out of the gloom, a strangely patterned lump against the darkened sky. The dreamer lifted his footpaws, skirting around the disgusting pond on his way towards the figure. As he got closer the white was revealed to be another cat - his eyes pure white and empty.

In his dream, Coricopat's attention was drawn to this cat andhe found himself unable to look away. Instead he kept walking closer until the other cat's paws almost touched him, then the arms dropped away in the most literal sense, falling with a sick splatting sound to the muddy ground. Coricopat stared in shock as the identity of the other cat became clear to him. The calico tom took a step forwards, shocked to see himself reflected in the tom's dead, white eyes.

The dream jumped. Suddenly he was standing at the edge of the reeds, horrified as the limbless body of the other cat sank down into the murky waters of the pond, an image of Coricopat's face still painted against the stark white of the sinking cat's eyes...

Coricopat awoke with a cry, more upset than he could remember being in years, since he was a kitten in fact. Since the last time he'd ever had a dream that didn't do what he wanted it to. He recalled the last fading images of the dream with a shudder, lingering shock and fear still gripping his chest in a cold vice.

A scrambling noise outside made his fur puff up before he realised that he was no longer dreaming. Cautiously, Coricopat shifted aside the sheet of cardboard that he used as a door, coming face to face with his twin sister. He wasn't surprised that she knew something was wrong, the twins always knew when the other was upset or hurt.

"Dream," Coricopat croaked in explanation.

"Tell me," Tantomile ordered, pulling him outside into the fresh air and away from the darkness of his den, "And we'll figure it out."

They settled nearby in a seculded niche that was shaded from the early-morning sun. It took the calico tom a while before he'd ordered the fragmenting dream sequence into a narrative, and when he had, he began to speak. Not looking at his sister, instead staring blankly across at a broken piece of human furnitute, he let the dream pour from his lips and into the cool morning air.

When Coricopat finished his narrative he stopped and looked at his sister expectantly. She was peering back at him with an odd look on her face, her ears canted half back and her expression twisted somewhere between pity and questioning.

"What?" He asked her, concerned by her silence and the expression on her face - one he'd never seen before.

"Coricopat..." The calico queen began, her eyes large and staring into his as though she could see his very soul. "The eyes are the window to the soul."