Vasran scoffs softly, weakly. "Who even knows." Well, actually — no. She knows. A bit. "You didn't wake me."

She knows that as long as she looks directly at him, she won't see the demon hovering nearby. Still, her eyes keep wandering off, until she sees the green flickering at the edges of her vision, the billowing cloak of the demon over his shoulder. It's terrifying, but she does it all the same, like worrying at a sore spot on her lip.

She herself doesn't have such constant companions, at least at the moment. A Wraith of some sort hovers over her, almost mirroring her posture. Every so often, a looming Terror demon stalks by the tent.

"I saw..." She swallows thickly, wanting to know, not knowing how to say it. "...it wasn't my dream." Is that even possible, or is the fever making her just that delirious?