getting me, so I start to follow the smell. I keep walking, maybe about 100 feet, and I get this eerie feeling. So I turn around. I see seven or eight tall gentlemen are just standing there staring at me. The one that's in the center, he's the chief. He's wearing a bright yellow headdress, almost dandelion. These feathers, oh my God, they're so beautiful. You can tell the work that was put into the weaving. Now his cape, his cape does not flow all the way down to the ground. In traditional Hawaiian times, when you see the short cape, that means he's going to war. The other gentlemen that are standing there with him, the other kanaka, they're just super thick, muscular and bronze. They're barefoot and they're wearing something called a malo. So it's a loincloth that, you know, has an open back, covers the goods in the front. That's what we would see back in the 1700s, maybe even before that. Then I hear a thunderclap, and then, Kahikili. As if, you know, he's saying his name, announcing his presence. And with that deep, kind of guttural voice, it's like, okay, it strikes a little bit fear, especially as Native Hawaiians. We learned about Kahikili growing up. Now, I already knew, okay, I don't mess with this guy. I mean all sorts of respect. But we lock eyes. He turns around and points to the left. He turns around. I hear it in my head. It's over there. So I replied to him, Oh, what's over there? And then I wake up as if I'm Nosferatu sitting up in my coffin, shaking to my core. get up, get ready. I'm thinking about it the entire time. There was something about the dream that made me feel like it was more than a dream. Seeing these shadows, you know, I didn't have a dream about the place. It feels like there is a purpose that needs to be fulfilled. There is something that needs to be found.