Hearing the door clatter open, the carnival master pursed his lips, abruptly ending his performance. Putting his flute down, he opened his eyes, and his disgruntled gaze settled upon the Dreamwalker.
"Did your parents never teach you to knock before barging into a room?" he muttered, parting his lips ever so slightly. "It is rude to invade someone's personal space, Dreamwalker."
"And it's fucking stupid to lure Ethereals to a train full of passengers," Xander retorted, sharp as a knife.
This only made the Mentalist sneer at him in contempt. "The Archeon's Flute only attracts the more benign Ethereals. I guess they forgot to teach you that at your little school."
"The Ethereals from the Dreamscape may not be as hostile as those from the Nightscape, but if you keep crossing your limits, they can prove to be equally unforgiving. Your melody has agitated the Frost Phoenixes. Hand the flute to me before this blizzard buries us under the snow."
