As Vivian stared into the leaping flames that danced in the fireplace, she began slipping, nodding off. Her head dropped onto the cushion of the large chaise lounge that looked as if it was actually from the Victorian era and not just a reproduction, her fiery copper hair splayed out over the black velvet. The hand that had been stroking Trickster's head had slowed to a stop, nestled in his thick fur as her breathing grew deeper and slower; in her other hand, she clutched the talisman firmly but gently as if it was her only way of finding the answers that she was seeking.<br/>Fire always had a way of either putting her to sleep or riling her up with a pyromaniac's mentality, depending on how she was feeling when dealing with the tricky flames. Since she was curled up, warmed by both the fire and her thick over-the-knee socks, she ended up asleep rather quickly.