I was a guy . . . or at least I was looking through a guy’s eyes.
I was with another guy. We ran through a large forest during the day, but the light was dimmed from all the trees.
We carried guns.
We ran into two other guys with guns.
We were at the top of a hill and they were at the bottom.
I pointed my gun at them.
Me and my friend went down and then searched through the other group’s belongings. (I guess they were dead now since they were lying on the ground, motionless. This dream skipped around much more than the previous one).
Apparently they were not the people we were supposed to kill and they were actually some high-ranked, important people.
We heard dogs bark in the distance and then we sprint away from the scene.
We walked around a harbori-ish place where it was dark, rainy, and gloomy outside. (I think a few years have passed by).
I saw a cabin in the distance. We started to walk towards it.
The guy that was with me grabbed my wrist and then pulled me away from the direction.
I pulled out of his grip and then headed inside anyway. (I think I was going somewhere to confess something, but the dream was blurry and I don’t remember as much from it).
We were in a pub-like place and now it was light and sunny outside. The weather’s mood swings made me think that we must be in Oregon somewhere.
I say something to the bartender and then he went into a different room for a few minutes. When he returned, he nodded for us to go back into the room with him.
We went through the door’s animal skin flap.
—END OF DREAM—