[ Somnus, while not working or walking within a dream, spends most of his time at the smithy or gathering raw materials from the clifflands. When not busy with those two tasks, he simply-- well, rest isn't a precise word for it, for there is none for the dead-- exists. His abode is the suit of armor in which he resides.
Letters that come and go to his residence (a treehouse in which there are no furnishings or objects anyway), are virtually non-existent, but he makes a habit of stopping by from time to time. As a matter of fact, he's only made habit of it since she had sent a letter to him months ago. It had been the first one he'd received in millennia.
Since then, he keeps all letters... of which there have only been two. Hers. ]
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Letters that come and go to his residence (a treehouse in which there are no furnishings or objects anyway), are virtually non-existent, but he makes a habit of stopping by from time to time. As a matter of fact, he's only made habit of it since she had sent a letter to him months ago. It had been the first one he'd received in millennia.
Since then, he keeps all letters... of which there have only been two. Hers. ]