He felt warmth. A sliver of morning sun shone across his eyes. It was pleasant. He lingered there; he felt very little other than the sun's touch on his face and a breeze caressing his feet which were uncovered by the thin sheet. His life and his consciousness returned to him, and he bore their company, as is the curse of all self-aware beings. He felt that he ought to have been confused, or frightened. He remembered sitting under the tree, intending to make his bed beneath its boughs for the night. But now he found himself, from what he could see through barely opened eyelids, back in his room. But he did not care. Maybe a troupe of murlocs carried him back in, he laughed at this. The laughter woke him completely and he raised his head. His stomach was on the brink of something, unsure what exactly, as he hadn't eaten anything substantially in days.

"Busy night?" A clear, friendly voice. A woman's voice. He glanced immediately, to find Nathera sitting comfortably in his home, looking at him, smiling mischievously. Tenemire had been previously lying comfortably, at ease with himself, enjoying the sensations that waking life brought. Her presence caused him to stiffen and withdraw into his bed sheets, attempting to cover all parts of himself.

"It's alright, it's alright, I'm not looking." She said dismissively. "Your robe is there." It was on the bed with him. He put it over himself as best he could still lying. He doubted his ability to leave the bed and stand unaided.

"I was sleeping outside..."

"Yes, you were. Outside. And naked. Next to a broken bottle of something, by the looks of it, pretty crazy." He knew she was smiling without looking at her.

"You..."

"No. Tyniarrel." For the first time since waking, he shifted to face her directly and stared in mortification. She laughed heartily at this. "I heard yesterday you had passed through the city." At this, without humour, she continued, "I don't know what it was," she looked beyond him into some distance, "but I sensed I should have been concerned for you. I've been having such strange dreams, and I awoke from one early this morning. Tyniarrel wouldn't let me travel alone through the forest while it was still dark. We found you... as you were," she brightened again, "and I insisted he carry you back in here." Tenemire was ashamed to the point of being unable to speak. "Ten, it's alright. We all have our moments. We are all equal under the Light," her voice was a sincerity he could never match in his own speech. At this he became almost uncontrollably emotional, however, other than a mist which appeared in his eyes, he was staid. "Pretty strange kind of divination, don't you think? I'm unfamiliar with it," she spoke of her dream.

"I'm not sure. Don't discount the possibility of a natural, friendly concern which brought you here; it needn't have been more than that."

"That's true," she said, concedingly.

He hesitated, unsure whether to tell her, to let her glimpse those reaches of his mind. "I had... such wicked thoughts..." Her face did not harden, but filled with compassion.

"Don't attribute them any more meaning or significance than they deserve. Recognise them as the products of a troubled mind. Nobody could be expected to endure any of this alone."

"That's sweet of you."

"I've put water there on the ground for you. Perhaps then I should let you collect yourself."

"I am quite unaware how to repay you, or Tyniarrel."

"No 'payment' necessary. That's the point."

"Goodbye, my dear, I'll see you soon."

After she left, he remained motionless some time in thought. He'd have preferred to have awoken, if it was necessary, still outside, exposed and cold. Despite her great act of kindness; he was angry with her. What did she know of his troubles? They had been peers, and he wished they still were. Something had propelled him beyond her though. Should he take responsibility for it? Did it mean he was not just ahead, but also above? The thought occurred to him, if not yet above, he would then place himself there if he had to. He would be above them all.