Sleep really did sound like an inviting concept. The compartment was warm, the seats were comfortable, the rocking of the train and rhythmic sound of the wheels on the track working their magic to make anyone feel drowsy. Indeed, the little red terror of a mage he was bringing back home was fast asleep. Having been sitting on her haunches when she dozed off, her head had inadvertently fallen to rest against his arm. Handy, being the gentle, understanding sort he is famous for, promptly shifted his arm and nudged Crimson’s sleepy head until she was lying back against the seat, snoring away. Alas, it was momentary, and her head inevitably fell back into place with the movement of the train. He had sighed and left her there, barely tolerating her soft breathing.