Alistair nods. He shifts, trying to get comfortable.

Shifts again.

The tossing and turning goes on for at least fifteen minutes before he finds a comfortable position and settles into a doze -- only to twitch awake within another fifteen. He lies awake, counting his breaths, until he can lull himself back to sleep.





Two hours later he bolts awake, wild-eyed and disoriented, panting for air as he stares blindly around the tent.