Swamped

"What about the call of the swamp? Is that magic, too?"

Long shakes his head.

"I couldn't tell you what exactly it is, but there's no ether involved in that. Most guesses I've heard are that it's the work of some god or another, or perhaps nature itself."

He pauses for a moment.

"It's calling to me now. I want to go back, whatever it means for my position. But, before I can return, we need to resolve whatever's happening with the gateways here. No matter how distracting the thought of the swamp may be."

Suddenly, a thought strikes you.

"Is it hard to sleep when you're not in the swamp, sir?"

"When I first heard the call, it was. Over time, it grew easier, though usually when I left I already had plans to return. It's difficult to describe..."

"What was it like when you arrived there?"

"Overwhelming, at first. And I don't just mean the smell. It was as though something was near, something I wanted desperately to see with my own eyes. I still don't feel as if I've seen it, but in time, just being close to it made the sensation more manageable."

That sounds a lot like what's been going through your head for these last few hours. Are you hearing a call from the desert?

You wonder if you should try to explain this to him, but you're not sure how. Or even if that's what's happening.