“Bring refreshments,” the nomad calls, “We have a guest. Make yourself at home, tinkerer.”
“How long have I been gone?” he asks.
“From the Warp? A few hours, little more.” The nomad begins to peel layers of cloth from head and body.
“Feels more like years.”
“Time moves differently here in the Weave.”
Protective layers removed the nomad is revealed, a middle aged european, with shaved head and goatee. He fills two chalices with water, offering one to Raven.
“And how have you occupied those years?”
“By living thousands of imaginary lives.”
