"Shh." A stern voice told Sayle.
He groaned, not wanting to be awake so early but the sun was far too bright.
"Shhh!" The voice said again.
"What?" The boy looked around. He was in a wheat field with only a scarecrow for company.
"Shush!" It was the scarecrow talking.
Anyone can tell when they're in a dream or not and Sayle knew he was awake, but all the same this scarecrow moved like no other he had seen.
"Stop it why don't you. Moving and all that. Tch. Get us in trouble while you're at it."
"What? I'm not a scarecrow." Sayle got up.
"Oh. How right you are!" Said the hey man.
Who, to describe quickly, wore brown tattered cloths and a long pointed hat and its face was as if its skin was made from tiny woven wicker.
"Where am I? I was... where was I?"
"That's the question." The scarecrow laughed. "But not for me."
"...you are? Pip Pwmpen?"
"Yes, that must be."
"Of course." Sayle shook the straw hand. "I'm Sayle."
"Like a sail? Silly old things, for ships." It lolloped about moving its hands like a ships sail.
"You're very... movable, for a scarecrow."
"Dear boy, you're very still for one who claim not to be."
"But I've- you can- I'm-"
If you have ever felt wide awake in a dream you might know how Sayle felt, but feeling awake in a dream is very different to feeling awake when you are in fact awake. Sayle had the feeling from the dream now, even though he was awake without a doubt.
The corn field spread as far as the distance wasn't blurry, although he wasn't sure how far that was.
"I went to England. Glandeg. I was looking for my brother. Fy brawd."
"A man of culture." Pip chuckled. "Not this one though, I must say."
"Yes! I'm from - I need to get to - Santana Park."
"Hm. Nothing's there. You do look out of place. Say. Would you like to try my hat?"
"What? No. I don't belong here!"
"Don't you?"
"I... I don't think I do. Well, I don't want to though, so. Point me out would you mate?"
"Must you make such a fuss boy, I'll show you out if you insist."
"What? Just over that there yonder field?" He remarked.
"That's the spirit!" Pip took large swinging steps past the boy. "Was it, this way, or that? Ah, never mind, I'll go this way. Come along."
After a few measures of time had passed and countless fields walked Pip had finished blabbering.
"I'm in hill land!" Sayle sulked.
"And you always have been." Pip smirked. It led the boy further out. "Just over this there field." But when they got there he said, "just over the next." Then again, "must be the next one."
It was somewhere he went before. Maybe just now, or just five minutes ago, but it carried the weight like he'd been there long ago, long before he was born. It came like a train to him but from then on it had always been there.
Then like it was nothing they got to the end of the world, where the sky formed a glass wall and met the ground. Where there was also a door the same colour.
"Oh. Hm. Now, I say, hm."
"Please!" Sayle drooped. "This is... this... I am dreaming!"
In fact he wasn't, but you too would think it if you saw the sky like Sayle did.
Pip however seemed not at all alarmed, rather a little annoyed.
"That's not until later." It complained.
"Is it the way out?"
"Yes it is. Although what it's doing here is beyond me. We had another age to walk, or so, or so I thought. Perchance."
Sayle pushed the door open and instead of more fields he saw a dark room. Which although it was very dark, much more then the field with a sun above it, this room was more vibrant.
"Thanks." Sayle said to Pip, who was too busy pondering to notice him enter the door.
