[ She has an inkling - a decent intuition, actually - that Dream of the Endless doesn't get involved with mortals and their petty, insignificant struggles; why would he? The Waking World isn't his to govern, after all; he no doubt has his hands full with the Fade, the Dreaming. But the war she's fighting now has threatened that realm, in one way or another, so perhaps it's not too farfetched, this offer of assistance.

(Although what form it might take she has no idea, nor does she really care. She trusts him enough to know it will be useful, whatever it is. Surely nothing tangible, like troops or supplies, but there is magic involved here, deeply so. And as a mage herself, Leanna Trevelyan knows that magic doesn't have to be witnessed to be a powerful force. Magic simply is.)

Though it thrills her all the way down to her toes when Morpheus takes her hand, long delicate fingers closing around hers, and she can't help the small smile that curves her lips in response. It's...nice, this simple touch, and so profound, at least in the back of her mind.

Then he speaks again, and she lifts her eyes to his, listening intently. And she nods at his first words. Prepared. Yes, she'd learned that the hard way, hadn't she. And even as difficult as it had been, there was still so much more pain and suffering to come. She's losing her innocence one life at a time, it seemed. Yet as much as she sorrows, she has to soldier on.

Because only she can close the Rifts. Only she can stop Corypheus.

Quite a tall order, for a small Circle mage. ]

...I understand. [ And she does, as much as she's able. ] To be honest...[ It's her turn to give a small sigh, gripping his fingers a little tighter ]...I'm not really sure what to believe anymore.

[ Except: Corypheus=bad, Inquisition=good. ]

--except, I'm so tired, Morpheus. I just...I just want to sleep. And when I wake up, all of this will just be a really bad nightmare.

[ She can't stop a short chuckle, because irony. ]