Johnny listens to him, wondering where this is headed. Eliot didn't strike him as the kind of guy who'd expend energy trying to deal with this kind of untenable situation, but he hasn't run away yet, either out of an awkward sense of obligation, or because he actually cares. He tenses slightly when Eliot shuffles around in the absurd effort of kneeling down - god, is he really doing this? why is he doing this? - then forces himself to relax. He wishes he could answer.

When Eliot touches his shoulder, he can't help but cringe away slightly. He feels poisonous - not worth anyone's time. But Eliot is here, being so... kind. Like he really wants to help. Even though he can't, and he almost seems to know he can't.

Johnny hesitates, then extends his hand slowly to the dirt, drawing with his finger:

NO.

He pauses, then elaborates:

WILL JUST HAVE TO WAKE UP.

He looks at his message for a moment, long enough for Eliot to read it, then rubs it out with his hoof.

It's only now that he wonders - he'd assumed Eliot wasn't a rifty, having lived in the city so long, not picking up on the usual coded questions. But he's here. Can non-rifties join these dreams? He's certainly never heard of such a thing happening. As far as he knows, these are just games the rift plays with its toys.

He leans down again, and writes, RIFT?