Sweet, safe dreams. She found her way to her own bed. She was so tired, but the dreams—the dreams would have been encrusted with the purple-blood spells of Orc death knights and the rabies of Undead pet bites, had it not been for him. He appeared just in time, just needed, and he eased her mind, her brow, and took all of the fear away. Another gift, worth more than gold to them both. He said don’t cry. But she did anyway, and her tears washed her nightmares away. What do friends say? “You’re welcome,” and she fell asleep.