"Ooooh I wrote poetry!" He commented off-handedly to her realization but seemingly ignored the dancing pictures of the nightmare parading through her mind. "I'm not much of a poet myself. You have all that artistic-ness dripping from your fingers! I'm more of a fraud, you know."
Issac purred loudly as Marlow started in on his hair, even while he babbled on about the Hunt and his side tangents. "Oh! I know. Dream magic would be a fun trick to have. Though I'd probably sleep less than I already do because would I really be sleeping if I were awake in someone else's dream? Am I awake for days on end because this is someone's dream and I can't tell the difference? Is that why you're here?" He paused. "The world may never know." Lips curled up and he chuckled to himself before looking up at Marlow.
"I won't get hurt, dream believer. Well... I mean... not physically. But that's what matters, yeah?" He nodded as if agreeing to his own statement. Issac had a strange awareness that he would push himself further than he should during the Hunt. His fearlessness against the burn of fire or danger made for a bad combination when the world plummetted into the dark case of the being out of step with the world.
Green eyes met amber with a confusion, his brows furrowing a moment. Issac's foot tapped on its own. "In my dreams, naughty naughty. You should have told me and I would have met you there. We could have fun in other people's heads." He ignored the comment and turned back around for her to continue attempting to get the comb out of his hair.