"Your mother...?" Tate wasn't sure how Sabel's mother had any informed opinion on him at all, although he was flattered she thought of him thusly. He turned the web over and over in his hands, examining it thoughtfully. The tension was tightly drawn in the room, creating invisible lines just as taut as the web in his hands. He'd give the boy time to speak his mind.

"I don't dream, actually, or at least... I never remember them. I did when I was a child, but something about the strange sleeping patterns in the ITF mean that when I sleep, I do it fast and hard, and when I wake, it's complete. I never remember a thing," he repeated. "But I have waking nightmares about everyone's safety, so this will do nicely. Thank you."