Mnosamne surveyed the world, and she was satisfied. It was not her world, alien influences corrupting her dream, but they did not bother her much. Quite the opposite - she had a hunger for the new and exciting, and this fit the bill. Mnosamne drew deep in the jungle air, tasting every bloody battlefield, every hidden mystery, every place of power. She savoured these things, trying each one but not focusing on any in particular. Knowing too much would ruin the surprise. The others were already going their own ways, with their own plans. She knew they would add many more things to this realm. Change was good. Anything but the stagnation of the old and routine.
Yet something was bothering her. She didn't act immediately, going over her thoughts and knowledge. There was nothing wrong with the world itself, and the others had seemed fine to her. That only left her. Mnosamne's divine being hung over the sky of the world like a second sun. The others had containers, bodies for which to hold it inside. Had they always had those? It seemed to her she should have one too.
The goddess descended, a beacon of light blinding the jungle with her terrifying radiance. Little fliers fled as she approached, as did the tree-dwellers. They were much like she had imagined them. Mnosamne ignored them for now, focusing on the mud of the jungle floor beneath her. She scooped up a handful, her arms forming out of the stuff even as she took it. She 'looked' at her hands. Though the mud had gone somewhere, they looked nothing like the wet stuff beneath her. They looked - and felt like - human skin. She could feel all the little veins and muscle and bone inside them, pulsing with life and divine energy.
The goddess began to work. More soil was needed for skin and muscle, tree branches for bones, leaves and vines for hair. She used everything she could find, feeling more and more alive by the second. After completing the head and the brain, she began to realize her strange feeling of dissatisfaction above. Deprived of senses, she had been only a shadow of her true self. Now they flooded in, strong jungle scents that made her scream out in sheer joy, the textures and colours of the vibrant world around her that threatened to overwhelm her mind at first, the feel of soil beneath her feet and of the hardness of tree trunks, the sound of her own laughter and the world around her, all of these things and more.
Mnosamne stood with wavering feet, making no effort to quell her beating heart and maddened mind. She could've done it with ease, her divine mind more than capable of controlling her emotions. But there would have been no point. She began making her way down the path, singing songs of joy that seemed to spring up from the core of her very being. These were songs of dreams, of true pleasure and the fulfilment of fondest wishes.
And without her knowing, these songs took on a more powerful form...
Mnosamne sings the Valley of Dreams into existance, an area of jungle where dreams quite literally come true