I knew I was dreaming when I found myself back in that forest.

Everything blurred in streaks of gold sunlight, passing through tree leaves and softening the scenery.

This feels odd when the forest I remember falling into was dark and clammy, not dreamy and golden like that.

The air smelled of fresh leaves and pine, and the leaves rustled softly overhead.

I stared down at myself to see my legs shorter, my body smaller. I was younger in this dream.

My gaze shifted to my hand to see that someone had been holding on to it.

“Keep up,” a voice of a boy sounded out.

He was gentle, guiding...