[i]“Sleep bereft of me.”

	“I am not here to wither away, I had told you who I was, and I had told you who I am and what I intend to do. 

	There are no secrets between us, only the chill of sorrow. I’ve walked far and I’ve walked long, just to be away from you, to be away from all of that, and why? So I can someday fall back into place. 

	I’ll get on all by myself, and though miles tread under my feet, do not mistake my travels for adventure and life, for each passing second is spent waiting still. Sleep pulls me to close my eyes, but I won’t listen. I am not done yet, I have not yet made it out of the shadows.

	But when I do, when I am free, warm the fire for my return, and let us live, live like we have died.” [/i]

	The words echoed in Derrix’s mind as he lowered his blade, it’s tip aimed at the back of the strange woman with Sana’s bow. His eyes focused on her form, blurring out the midget among the others in front of her.

	He slunk forward and all but whispered,  the point of his ashen sword finely focused, “your name?”

	Suddenly leaves blew all around the man as a large figure leapt from nowhere. Derrix’s blade swung over to point at the newest member of the stand off, and he silently stared the monstrosity down, ready to lunge.