I asked Loki to give me a dream of some sort to help me sort out past lives.
In the dream I got (the most vivid one anyway), I was a fire.
I was a moving, sentient fire. I was screaming at the sky as if I were angry with it. But I was still trying to go up, into it. I realized I wasn’t angry with the sky, I was in love with it. Couldn’t leave the ground though. So I burned everything I could reach in the field that I felt like was both my home and my prison.