Alvira sat in her rocking chair, wiping her forehead.  Going under had been, as always, exhausting.<br/>For many minutes she sat in silence, waiting for the two adventurers to wake from their slumber.  She had caught glimpses of their separate dreams, each of which very different.  Sometimes, Alvira could not help but wonder just what her patients saw in their dreams.  Was it enjoyable?  Was it horrid?  Perhaps both, nevertheless, hers were always uncomfortably dark and lonely.  Lonely.  There was that word again...<br/><br/>"Miss?"<br/><br/>Alvira turned to Celris, examining the young Feral's short fur, and long snout.  For a Feral, she looked quite beautiful.  Although she knew her race did not often accept those who bore abstract patterns, or mingled with the Alune.  Perhaps the two weren't so different after all.<br/><br/>"Hello again, children," she said.  "I suspect that you know where to go?  Or at least what to do?" Alvira turned back to her table of concoctions to prepare a gift for both Celris and Ozbourne.  Without turning around she spoke, "So... What do you got for me?" She smiled, glad she was able to once more assist her own kin.