"No!" He's breathless with relief and pain all at once, sharp cold lancing up and down his arm. "They shouldn't. How could they?"

Slower, he turns to follow her to shore, staring up in amazement at the sky and the trees. It's not such a feat; this IS just a dream. If he ever ends up back home, he doubts he'll be able to replicate this for real. But it's nice to have for now. The Balladeer finds a rock and sits down, his shirt still crumpled up in one hand.

"Should I...try to wake up?" he asks, unfolding it to stare again at the bloodstain, then at his shoulder. If he imagines himself better again, will that work. "Or you could? This looks nice, but it doesn't look like my dreams are always the safest place."