This is an odd one. But then all dreams are odd, aren’t they? I don’t know why I keep saying that.
I was on a coach. It was the wrong coach. I don’t know where I was going or where I wanted to go, but I know it was the wrong coach. It was night time and the coach drove all night. When the sun came up we were driving along a country road and it was really sunny. On each side their were fields with people in them and in each field, there were different extinct megafauna. There was a Mammoth, a Paraceratherium, an Arsinoitherium and an Elasmotherium. Then the coach stopped next a field with huge tigers in it.
The tigers were mingling with tall Indian mystics in purple robes. We all got off the coach and went into the field and the mystics all started looking at me. They came over to me and kept saying the same word over and over – “khani”. As they said it the letters went through my head – “k-h-a-n-i”. Then two of the tigers came over and started slobbering all over my head, and the mystics continued to chant “khani, khani, khani…”
The act of slobbering on me seemed to be some sort of ritual. Eventually they stopped and just wandered off and left me there covered in thick, gloopy, tiger spit. Nice.