Alistair leans his head back again. A breeze stirs the tree branches, hiding and revealing bits of the constellations above. The stars in the Fade -- when there were even stars to see -- would wink out like that sometimes, but they never reappeared in the same spot. It's...good to see the lights remain steady enough that he can actually pick out a constellation here and there.

He counts his breaths. Counts Cullen's. Listens to the wind.

You're safe.