<em> Another drink left her staring at the bottom of an empty mug. Sitting it to the side she stood and walked into the kitchen, letting the question hang in the air while she pulled one of the mead barrels off the rack. Hefting it on a shoulder she returned to the front room, setting the barrel down beside her chair with a heavy thump. She takes longer than necessary to refill her mug, unsure of how much of an answer to give.</em><br/><br/>What do I mean? Maybe I mean nothing, for all you know I could be quite mad.<br/>But haven't you ever been a place that was...<em>Dys stares into her mead as if the amber liquid would provide the word she was looking for.</em><br/>Pure? I guess. Some place that engulfed you and washed away... Everything.<em>A wistful smile is quickly hidden by a tipped back mug and is gone when the mead is lowered.</em><br/>You can't stay in a place like that. Lingering would only taint that strange magic wouldn't you agree? Or am I mad after all?