Morne sat on the floor of his cell with his legs crossed and his eyes closed, focusing on his breathing.
When they had returned to the Mycontae, Essenla, who was still worried about him after his display, had suggested meditation to soothe his nerves.
"It works for me," she had said. "It's the only thing that's kept me from going insane, cooped up in this prison all day."
With nothing to lose, Morne had decided to give it a try.
Now he sat alone in his cell, listening to the sound of his breathing and the beating of his heart. He inhaled deeply, letting the breath out in a thin stream, then inhaled again.
But Morne wasn't suited for sitting around without any sort of thought going on, and his mind soon strayed to a particular topic.
'That Spell…'
He was thinking of the Spell he had learned from his plant-heart. With a thought, he cast his Sense into his Inner World, examining the Mark of this new Spell.
