Morpheus watched her move over there, watched the bartender set the drink down, and picked his own up again.
We don't like the Norse anymore.
She said cheers, and Morpheus smiled, despite what she'd just said. "Slainte," he said, taking a drink. Through the smile, eyes cast to the side, glimmering, Dream spoke.
"We don't, huh?" Both eyebrows raised slowly, carefully, and the look said volumes. He wanted her to watch her step. Loki. Sigyn. Okay... so Sigyn scared him a little, but still. Morpheus had a lot of respect for the Norse.
"That doesn't tell me what happened, Dys," he said. He spun the glass in his right hand in a little circle on the bar. This conversation was gonna hurt. He could feel it.