A gentle breeze began to blow, and a faint, faint, unidentifiable sound seemed to resound in the distance. It sounded like a whistle, but more grainy, the texture more rough.
Then, as if by some heavenly miracle, the stars themselves seemed to begin falling from the sky, coming down as sparkles and fairy dust. And from these sparkles, purple light began to emanate.
The sound emanated in the distance again, eerily hollow, and a presence filled the air in the camp. It was pure chance that this was where it was to happen. Pure bad luck. The sparkles reached the floor, and sensed the dreaming elf.
The light flashed red, and in Thranuilas' dreams, a horrific image would flash. One of torture, and perverse pleasure.
Then, the sound occurred again, slightly louder this time, but no louder than a whisper to Thranuilas.
The light flashed a darker red, showing another horrific image, and it decided Thranuilas was a perfect choice. The light flashed red with his heartbeat, the horrific images increasing in pace, frequency, and graphic content.
Then, right next to Thranuilas' ear, the sound occurred one final time, revealing itself as a nightmarish scream, now raw with terror and pain.