Fairly appropriate, then, that she drifted off while she whispered about unfading dreams, and rearranged sentences into other sentences that had very little to do with the original.

As far as Amarus was concerned, when she woke she would believe it had all been a figment; a dream created by an isolated mind, of someone who walked the line between lucidity and illusion who could keep her company. Even for a little while.

There was always a reason for dreaming, wasn't there?