...He was lying in a world of ashes, and there was nothing around him but cold gray darkness. He stepped forward, dust swirling at his feet, looking around at the blank world, and each violent contraction of his heart seemed to shatter apart the stillness.

Stark against the grayness of the nothing was a beaver – but it was no ordinary beaver. Its luscious fur was purple, and from atop its small head sprouted two large horns like that of a ram, and upon its back were two scaly bat-like wings. It turned and looked at Tain with solemn dark red eyes, and he screamed.

- - -

Tain woke up with a loud yell. Lyren was looking at him with concern. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“No, not the beavers!” Tain immediately screamed, swiping at the air. “Get them away from me!”

They both looked at each other silently. Tain fought to slow down the rapid pumping of his heart, still irrevocably terrified. Lyren grimaced and, without another word, he stood up and walked away.