Took 20 minutes. Not bad.
Prompt: "Furry boi (mandatory) realizes that he sometimes wakes up in possession of inanimate objects from dreams he had the night prior. What do?"
Stephen brought the dream into focus and held the lucidity steady. With that, he began to mold the vision in front of him like clay. Blurs of color swirled into form and function, settling into the desired shapes and gaining rigidity as objects in his mind's eye. He could feel his whiskers twitch in the waking world as he strained against the entropy.
'Just a little more,' he thought. 'Lectern. Stage. Audience. Auctioneer.'
The words acted like summons. The colors swirled into their shapes and took vague forms. Stephen molded them into as much clarity as he could manage. The dark wood of the lectern, the bright lights of the stage. The heights and genders of the audience. The facial features of the auctioneer.
'Now, sell it.'
"Let's start the bidding at one piece of jerky." Said the auctioneer.
An audience member raised their paddle.
"Do I hear a potato?"
Another paddle.
"Eighty daffodils and one rose. Do I hear a turtle?"
Stephen concentrated. He had to make it make sense.
"Fifty gold rings. Seventy shark teeth.
One hundred and twenty marks."
Marks. He had aimed for dollars, but that would work. He began his work on the item for sale.
Colors swirled again, converging and morphing behind the auctioneer. Blues. Blacks. Reds.
Stephen felt his leg jerk. His fur grew hot, as if he was a computer overheating.
Finally, the thing gained form. First in outline, then body. It blinked into existence.
"A billion marks!" He yelled.
"Sold!"
Stephen ran to the stage as the dream began to fall in around him. The audience dissolved into puffs of ash. The walls folded like accordians into the void. He jumped on stage, through the lectern and the auctioneer which faded like ghosts.
Stephen dove as the floor gave way. He tackled the object.
The dream blinked out.
The world burst into existence.
Stephen gasped as he awoke in his bedroom. Immediately he looked at his outstretched arm, panting, wide eyed, hoping that he had brought it with him through the veil of the dream.
Indeed, he had.
Beside him lay a plushie. A life-sized Lucario plushie.
"YES," he shouted, and he hugged the plush tight.