"Sometimes it's not wantin' the dreams. Sometimes it's that you really can't. Usually 'cause of anxiety - do andalites get that? It's like, uh, your fear instincts get all fucked up so you're nervy all the time, even when there's literally nothing to be scared of? Or sometimes it's a chemical thing. Brain doesn't make enough sleepy juice. Most of the time it's kinda both, I think."

Saturday eyes the river herself, does a few mental calculations, then nods.

"Yeah. You better carry me over - I might make it, might not, don't really want to risk the noise if I don't."