Quenton didn't see or hear any of the response, as what he'd thought had been just blinking hadn't been. The sculptor's eyes were closed, evidence already of somnolence the other man was already labeling by its myriad inconveniences. No answer was given, not even a snorted snore. Breath was shallow, quiet, nearly motionless as the rest of him.
The conversation going on with a dreamed Odysseus was different.
"Carpet padding is wondrous? That doesn't seem a lot like 'Gardens'?"
"There aren't even Gardens on the world of Thraen. What use are they, in dream of peace and plenty or in hope of healing and succor? Those are just dreams. Carpet padding is at least something attainable. "
"That's kinda grim, don't you think?"
Ryuthulhu
Did you want to end it on yours?
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