"... Sunny?" Felix blinked, stared, put a hand to his forehead and stared again. Sunny's presence meant that he wasn't dreaming, and perhaps he wasn't even mad. Her presence meant that this green-coated blackness was reality. He might have preferred madness.

Reality hit him with an observable start: Sunny was here, Sunny had her knife, Sunny was a wizard, he was a wizard, he had magic in his hands and his blood that had been entirely forgotten before now. However, summoning his witchlights did not feel like it would help the situation.

Felix looked down at his filthy (for someone usually so well-dressed and neat) shirt and trousers. "How long have I been here?"