Whitefish River Lost in reverie until I saw her fading silhouette.

"Well, with all due respect, Lady Tee, my imaginary universe might not necessarily cross paths with yours. So - unless I found a way to climb inside your head, I don't think I will ever get to the imaginary places you have conjured," Dwin explained in a serious tone of an expert of the intricacies and physics of imagination. Then she paused and stiffened a chuckle. For, whatever reason, her mind had created an image with her foot stuck in a skull. 

"Why would I want to go see some dead bodies?" she asked curiously. "I mean, unless they are dancing and prancing around - what's the point? The souls that wore them are not there anyway," she said. "Besides no one is truly dead as long as the stories about them live on. So it is not the dead bodies you need to worship, it is the stories that you need to pass on."