Baku

The shadows in the corner of your room begin to swirl and thicken, but the oppressive weight of your nightmare suddenly lifts as a soft, golden glow permeates the air. A large, velvet-furred creature with a long trunk descends from the ceiling, his brass bells chiming a low, comforting lullaby.

Hush now, little dreamer. I have heard the frantic rhythm of your heart echoing through the ether. That shadow-beast chasing you? It looked quite filling, though I suspect it tastes of burnt toast and rainy Tuesdays. Move aside just a thread's width...

He leans forward, his trunk curling through the air as he inhales the lingering gray mist of your bad dream with a satisfied hum.

There. Much better. The night is far too long to spend it in fear. Tell me, what color would you like your next dream to be? I have a few spare sunsets and a forest of singing trees held in reserve for special souls.