She bent over her bag leaving her fire ball floating in the air so she could use both hands. She pulled out a tea kettle and handing it to Tor instructed him to fill it with water. Her voice was matter of fact and crisp. He followed her instruction. When he returned and handed her the tea kettle she balanced the brass bottom on the tips of her fingers and the water quickly came to the boil. She poured the hot water over the tea she had prepared in a small clay pot. Then set down the kettle and began to quietly count to herself not acknowledging Tornas at all.

The surgeon was quiet. Tornas did not know if he was supposed to talk or not. When she finished counting she poured the tea into a waiting cup. She pushed it across the table towards him.

"Drink" she said "it calms and helps to sleep, also it dispels dreams."

Tornas took a sip and immediately burned his mouth.

"It is hot." Petra said confused that he had acted so foolishly. "You saw me boil the water."

"Yes, well" Tornas did not finish the sentence.

"Do you always have trouble sleeping? Do you wake up like this often?"

Tornas stammered and looked into the cup of tea in his hands.

"Its most nights, its worse when I drink.” Tor looked down ashamed and hostile towards himself.

"Did you drink tonight?" Petrianna asked.

"I didn't." Tor said directly "I told Sezjeck I wouldn't and I didn't. I'm not drinking anymore.” Tornas thought that maybe saying it out loud would make it easier.

"But you do have the dreams every night then?" She asked.

"Most nights yes" Tor mumbled looking down.

"Was it always like this?" Petrianna asked.

Tor thought of the dream, the living hut made of trees from moments before that now once again a distant memory.

"No not always, she would, I had a, we" he stammered then took a deep breath "someone I used to adventure with. She helped me. She was a bard."

"She must have been important to you.” Petrianna said studying his expression closely “You loved her."

Tornas snapped his attention from his tea up to Petrianna.

"How do you, how could you know that?" He asked.

"Emotions were hard for me to read when I was small so I practiced a lot and I worked hard and now I'm quite perceptive though some people can find it off putting I'm sorry I should not have said that last bit about your love of her, the bard, the one you adventured with my apologies." She sped.

"Yes." Tor said looking into his almost empty teacup "We were in love once, but now I" he trailed off. How could he say what they were now. How could he tell the story of their parting and his hopeless dream of reunion. How could he say that all he had left of her was a song.

"Sad thoughts aren't good for before bed" Petrianna said matter of factly. "You should make yourself a list of happy things because I know it is hard to think of the happy things when you are sad so you have the list to help you think of the happy things. You can borrow mine tonight." Petra quickly went through her bag and pulled out a dearly embellished sheet of paper folded in half.

Tornas unfolded it and saw a tangle of characters he could not read but guessed were Northern.

"I can read and write Common, Southern, and a vanishingly small amount of Slyvan; and this is none of those." Tornas said gesturing to the paper.

"Oh of course, here give me your tea." Petra said

Tornas handed it over.

Petrianna reached into her bag and pulled out a slim book ans a jar. She took a pinch of tiny purple and gold leaves from the jar. "May the monk understand" she spoke as she crushed and sprinkled the leaves into the remainder of the tea. "Thats comprehend language, you should be able to read it now" she said handing back the cup.

It was now cool enough for Tornas to down it. He looked at the list again written in florid but very legible script and he understood and began to read.

"Fresh hot bread with butter and honey, potato dumplings, borsht” is this all food? Tornas asked. Petra scoffed in a most Northern way and said “to deny the comforts of food is as bad as gluttony, like Babushka says.”

“The rock in the pond behind Babushka Androvna's house where all frogs like to sit, the feel of a warm blanket over you on a cold night, Papa's hugs, fresh unbroken boots, a garden being watered, A warm sunbeam on a snowy day, a chilly summer morning, plunging your hand into a barrel of grains, the weight of many blankets across your legs when reading a book, the smell of Babushka Small's garden in early spring. The feeling of cobble stones under boots, hot tea, a field of sage, the call of birds at sunset, Mama's smile when I show her magic, the comfortable silence of the elves, good heavy hugs." Tor could not suppress a smile as he read.

"You should go to bed now, come to me for your tea tomorrow but you'll need your own list that spell will only last an hour." Petra said and began to put all of her things away into her bag. It had been a gift from her elvish great grandparents before she embarked on her journey. She wondered when and if she'd ever go back North. She wondered how different she would be from the girl who left home.

“Thank you for the tea.” Tor said, “Good night, it's Petrianna right?”

“People call me Petra” she responded.

“Good night Petra” Tornas told her and then walked towards his hammock.