The Cat dragged the mortals to their meeting place at the River Olrun. Fog swirled around them; the only sounds were that of their footsteps and the rushing water. Songwind awaited in his human form.

Beka bowed to the dragon, and Rosto was quick to copy her gesture. Songwind looked down at the Cat. How do you propose we begin? He inquired. He spoke to the Cat alone.

'Leave their minds to me. You handle the travel.' The Cat ordered briskly.

Is this fated to be naught but a Midsummer Night's Dream? Songwind queried.

The Cat chuckled. 'That play has not been written yet' He admonished.

Songwind grinned and summoned the spell.

888888

Morning after Midsummer, year 246

I awoke this morning and my nob was buzzing with dreams. Somewhat about a six-times great grandson, a new shadow snake…and a few soul-bearing talks with Rosto. I groaned and promised myself I would stop drinking all together. I put the dreams out of my mind as Pounce jumped onto my bed and proceeded to wash my face. I let him clean for a few minutes before I got up and gave myself a proper washing.

I was preparing a load of laundry for Kora when there was a knock outside my door. I opened it, and I saw that Rosto looked as exhausted as I. "Where were you last night?" I asked. Truth be told, I couldn't remember what I'd done either.

Rosto rubbed his eyes and shook his nob. "I was hoping you could tell me, Cooper. I've just had the oddest…dream." He frowned. Somewhat told me he was looking for answers from me.

"Stop drinking afore bed, my friend." I advised. "Ale does strange things to us all."

Rosto sighed. "It wasn't the ale. I'm not ducknob enough to get drunk these days. And I'm not sure it was a dream. Beka—

"Keep dreaming Rosto." I cut in harshly. "Whatever you think might have happened between us…it didn't."

He raised an eyebrow at my heated response. I blushed and realized too late that wasn't where his questions were going. "Cooper," he murmured. "Come here."

His lips met mine, and I tasted that familiar sweetness. A cool, distant part of my nob noted he certainly hadn't been drinking.

He pulled back after a moment and smirked at me. He knew I had melted, and he was enjoying the sight. His vainness chilled my temper quicker than Hasfush's strongest breath.

I did it without thinking. My fist shot out and caught his big nose. There was a loud crack, and I knew I'd broken it. I nursed my sore knuckles and stood over him. "I'm my own mot, Rosto of the Rogue. You may be able to steal from the King's treasury, but you stay away from me and mine." I stepped back into my room and shut the door behind me.

Pounce leapt up onto my desk and began to clean his whiskers. 'He can't steal what you give him freely.' My dumpling-meat furball remarked.

I ignored him and opened my window. The pigeons came pouring in, and I sighed. I felt vaguely guilty about breaking Rosto's nose. I suppose I should make it up to him. I'll send him some flowers.