Powerful forces in the universe that disregard other powerful forces in the universe are immensely grating. Illyria cannot decide which powerful force she is angrier with. Ordinarily she would settle for the one most within striking distance, but if the Morningstar is to be believed then such actions would be pointless.

"Loathsome," murmurs Illyria, her shell's lip curling, "to think we would walk in minds with mortals."

The Morningstar has made no further move to attack her, she notes with a faint tremor of disappointment. The battle would have been glorious and could have raged on for many days and nights. They could tear a hole in the dreamstuff-consciousness and rip themselves back into waking. She will not act as though the thought does not tempt her but with the understanding that battles fought on this plane will be useless and without consequence, she finds that her interest in resuming their engagement has waned.