Aly snorts. "Are you mocking me?" Dense? Is he calling her dense? Granted, she's a little prickly at the moment. But she'd appreciate the distraction all the same.

The room's empty. It usually is, these days. People are disappearing left and right, the Dreaming claiming its own.

"Okay," she says. "Hit me." Then she pauses. "Literally, if you want." While she's prickly and sad, she's also spoiling for a fight. She wants to cry and scream and punch and she knows that Devin won't indulge that last one.