Dream belongs to Neil Gaiman, DC/Vertigo, etc.
The lamppost belongs to C.S. Lewis.
(Mild spoilers through The Wake; assumed that Daniel was still a bit human based on the circumstances. It would be interesting anyway. It’s all sorts of messy and I assume I’ll take the idea and run with it another day. I also was fascinated by the idea of the soft places - what better place for that than Narnia?)
The Daniel Dream walked down the path. His robes blended into the snow that sifted down from ice-covered trees until only his star-dark eyes glowed black in the white. On his shoulder perched Matthew. He could’ve thought ‘his raven’ instead, but Matthew could never be anything but Matthew - or perhaps, Morpheus’ raven, but that felt too odd.
He stopped under the lamppost; sat down; sent Matthew to circle above. He had to get a grip of himself. Soft places felt good right then.
His fading human mind clutched at a bit of home. Dream pushed back. Back and forth they warred. He clutched his hair, and wondered where the color in it had got to. Then he remembered and his mind screamed for order and reason to return.
Then it all stopped. A calm swept over him. A truce inexplicably formed in his mind.
“Welcome, Son of Adam. Welcome, Dream.”
He half-turned, and saw the Lion. Of course - He would listen to both of him.