In her dreams, she has a sister. In her dreams, her dwarves are but one dwarf, combining the worst of all their qualities: wrathfulness, sloth, disinterested detachment from her worries, a touch of fey madness that they can never truly hide, not for long.

When she wakes from these dreams she always turns to the mirror that stretches almost from the floor to the stooped little ceiling, and her reflection watches her back, a little wry smile and the vaguest quirk to the image's brow; when she wipes the last of the sleep from her eyes the illusion fades, and yet, she still finds herself wondering, mourning the absence of something she doesn't quite know was ever real.