Ragnar quietly shut the door to Athelstan's art room, padding along beside him as they traversed the short little path back to the house. The sky was just starting to lighten, though it was still more predawn than dawn.

"Not really. I do not remember what I dreamt," He said with a soft smile, following Athelstan inside, "But it woke me up."

The panic of thinking Athelstan was gone had definitely woken him up more, but the monk already seemed wracked with guilt. He didn't need any more help.

"Rash?" Ragnar echoed the word with a slight smile that was devoid of any warmth, "No."

It wouldn't be rash at all. It would be well thought out and executed with calculation. Not rash.