[The truth of Paul's ongoing lack of address is multi-faceted. It began as a precaution in a novel, threatening environment, to be sure, but it's also been this: if he chooses a place to stay, if he calls it a house and it is empty, he will have to wake up to silence every day not because he's an efficient, agile survivor, but because he's alone.

So he listens to the sounds of Falco in the other room, smells the coffee being brewed, and looks around the little cabin with a feeling like a tentative extension of vines. They only proliferate when Falco emerges and perceives the gift, a thing Paul watches with a smile from behind his steaming cup.]

I did. [And he has the pricked fingers to prove it; he's not an expert in needlework.] There's a paleblood stone inside. It's a dream-hunter. If you keep it nearby when you sleep, it's supposed to chase away nightmares.

[Paul knows a thing or two about the kind of nightmares that Falco might have. It's a simple spell, and not one that wards against all bad dreams, but he thinks it might. That's why it's his paleblood that forms the stone.]

I'm glad you like it.