To Wilhelm, who was as yet still more used to the frozen wastes beyond the door, and whose skin was still reacting far more than usual to what was probably nothing greater than average temperature, the remark about there being only a little heat seemed absurd. Then again, he was aware that he'd spent too long in the cold, and though he wasn't sure how long was long enough for the effects to leave him alone, he thought perhaps he could afford to let that one slip by. He couldn't, however, work up the energy to be bothered by it, so there was little point in continuing to dwell on heat or no heat, whatever the case might be. There was, however, a growing concern in the back of his mind that if he had never seen a creature like Hap before, nor heard of one, and Hap did not understand the points he was trying to make, he was either dreaming dismally, or not where he should have been. He was too tired to decide which was more likely, or even what either might mean for the now or the later. 

He couldn't understand how the sun could be beneath their feet, but that was for another time. When his mind was not slipping through shadows as though they vanished whatever they encompassed. At the conclusion adopted by Hap, he could only sigh agreement. It was a strenuous breath, shaky to start, almost shallow, but it just kept on until his lungs were full and then rushed out without fanfare. He was not from the Reaches. Insofar as he knew, his home did not have a name. There'd been no need of one. They all lived there. Apparently, that was wrong. 

The troll's ears twitched as the pup Hap handled continued complaining, but the only sign of his earlier discomfort and fear was the slow curl of his tail across the furs to wrap around an ankle. The least energetic fidget anyone might possibly manage. When asked to describe his home, Wilhelm opened his eyes, third eyelid already covering them, and stared through film to the ceiling again, watching details fade in and out of his focus. That was a tall order to ask of anyone, to tell someone about their home if they were starting with confusion. Where did you begin? What did you share without explanation? What did you offer with both hands and wait until it was accepted? What did you leave lying behind where it had always been? He would start, he thought, as a herb bunch above swayed from another heavy breath, with the trees.

"You ask too much of me, but I will talk, and I suppose you will question. There will be something shared that way. Heh." His lips twitched, but he was already drifting towards memories, new moments didn't belong there until they'd passed, so the smile faded before it was finished. "My home is everywhere I set foot, on stone, earth, grass and through water... Or snow." He snorted. "But she lived most in the same tree I chose. Greater than those dark things I walked through, each leaf would cover my hand, some my hands together. Or they are small and thin, good for gathering into a bed. I could climb a full day and find little worlds in the branches." It had been a while since he'd been strong enough to climb that long, old age decided that the heights at which one was comfortable became lower and lower. 

"My tree was long dead, and his roots gathered stone in the rising water of the flat land every spring. We would sleep in the lowest branches then, when the water threatened to make us breathe her." When the rumble that underlay his words died away, Wlhelm remained quiet for a time, though he managed to stay awake. Remebering could leave one lost if they hadn't first set out a path to follow. "He is empty now."