"I know something of what you speak." His eyes do light up a little at what this man is saying. He's seen the desert at night too and yes, it is beautiful. In a truly alien way, to a person who was born almost literally on the lagoon, where the rocking of boats on the canals, the creek underfoot of bridges and the slosh and sucking roll of the tides was as natural to him as his own heartbeat. When too far from the water he often found himself disquieted, but it was compelling.

"I have seen the barren lands east of Damascus, where the sands are high as the reaching masts of ships." He speaks quietly, remembering. "When the moon reaches the zenith of her arc, and all her handmaid stars outspread before her, how bright the ground beneath her glows and all is silent. Like some great sea, all frozen waves set to tumble down and drown a man in silver. Such a sight."

He smiles a little at Zack's distaste. "What is it? A friend of many, enemy of some, a distiller of truths and portents and courage, that strikes a man with the will to play at love but robs him of the means." He takes a gulp of his own, enjoying the taste. "But perhaps there's nothing of its like in your desert land. Perhaps a man has nothing to drink at all."