And life just gets odder.

Beregond yawns and stretches as the morning light filters through his windowshades. But he doesn't stretch much, as his outstretched arm bumps into something. Actually, someone.

Suddenly, the events of last night are recalled, and as he cracks open sleepy eyes, Beregond realizes it was not a dream after all. He grins, albeit nervously.

Ah, good morning. Hmm. We do need to get you a name so I can say Good Morning more properly.