As the Lady slipped from her velvet gown and into a sheer white covering for night, she pondered where her dreams might take her. As often occurs, when she lay her head upon the pillow and watched the moons through her windows, she wondered who she truly is. Yes, a daughter of Morpheus, making dreams and falling prey to them. At times feline, at times human... but what else? She has power enough and control enough and yet, at times... not enough. Something there is or rather, is not. A need that oft goes unfulfilled.

As Arianda closed her eyes, her form bathed in the soft silver light of the moons, she made a recurring wish. Mayhaps she shall be visited by some spirit, an incubus. If such a visitor could come and slip into her mind as well as her body and know... know what she needs before she herself can know.... If he would show her the extent of herself, find her limits and test them, perhaps then.... but no... it shall likely never be. She will not relinquish that power over her. She cannot grant the trust. The sound of her own breathing, night's creatures and customary rustlings within the Castle, lull her to sleep with those thoughts.