[ He dreams for days. Sometimes coherently, enough that it reaches almost to the point of lucidity, almost to where Prior could reach - and sometimes sunk so deep that his mind is near catatonic, nothing more than a murky eddy through the dark. Never reachable. Always down too deep. On some level, perhaps, he's cognizant of the fact that he's drowning, recognizes it - it's why, when he dreams near-lucidly, he dreams of great open stretches of water, not a boat in sight, bobbing in the water with his head scarcely above. There is not the desperation, the fear of death, that would come in the water in real life; there's peace, instead, in this state of not-yet-drowning. ]
I'm your dreamgirl