"I was-" Trahearne stopped short, looking around himself, his expression one of genuine confusion. He was on the table because of the Risen, but not only were that variety of undead not here, it was downright impossible for them to be here at all. Logically, it was easy to tell himself that, but something still seemed wrong. This was the first time he had ever reacted quite so violently to one of his dreams.

Trahearne had very little grace left to muster up as he stepped down off of the table, onto the chair he'd been sitting in, and back to the ground. He snapped up his book and held it in front of himself defensively. It could be used as a weapon, though he knew it wouldn't hold up well to having magic channeled through it. "I was preoccupied," is all he said by way of explanation. "Though now I'm disappointed. None of the saplings brash enough to challenge me to duels ever did it quite so formally."