Drizzt came back to his senses very slowly, hardly waking before again heading deep into unconsciousness. His captor was patient. Time had no use for her, no meaning at all. Time was for mortals and such other beings. She was a goddess. What would a goddess need to know about time?

She relaxed, waiting, not wanting to leave the drow's side. She enjoyed watching him. How peaceful he seemed when he was resting! The dark elf had no worries in the blackness of unconsciousness. There were no nightmares to plague him, no memories returning that only the night mist could trigger. There was only a serene contentment that she knew Drizzt would never be able to reach anywhere else.

Stars burned the sky when Drizzt woke. He gave a startled jump as he became aware of the more recent wounds. He winced, the cuts and slices on his back paining him more than he had ever even begun to imagine possible. Streaks of blazing white ran through his mind, searing agony in color. His eyes scrunched closed, but he didn't cry out.

Then, without any warning, a hand brushed against his shoulder gently, like a whisper of wind. The pain vanished and Drizzt collapsed in exhaustion.