To Sita's eyes searching frantically in the branches above her, appeared the vanara from Kishkinda Hanuman, clad in white. With eyes of the colour of molten gold, his dazzle was like that of the Sun and she quailed at the sight. Fear once again gripped her, 'This must be a deceitful dream', she thought 'to dream of a monkey is a bad omen. I do hope Rama and Lakshmana are safe and all is well in my father's kingdom'. Slipping into the painful past simmering just below the surface of her sorrowing mind, she brushed aside the thought of her even dreaming as she wistfully said, 'separated from Rama, pining for him and living forever in fear of these demon hordes, how can I sleep? And how can I, whom sleep evades and who has only watched and wept ever dream? I pray to Brahma, Brihaspati, and Agni and to all the gods that, may this Vanara be the truth and not a dream!'