I seemed to sleep for ever. I dreamt that Britain was sunny all the time now, and that everybody and everything was joyous under the continual blue skies and bright sunshine.
I thought that Britain might be so effervescent now that stars had fallen down to Earth in the form of birds to re-energise their glows amongst all the brightness.
I thought that Green may have forgotten me already, and that it was now enjoying its time with Blue and Yellow: I remembered that if you mix blue and yellow you get green, so maybe they were all just meant to be together all the while. Maybe the Grand Council does know everything.
I also wondered who that Grey Werewolf I’d seen was. Was it connected to me, or was it another me: was there a message within the vision? Was it there to lead or follow, or was it just to show me how grey and ragamuffinish I look?
When I awoke my grey fur was soaked through, and I felt rather queasy.