Time here is distorted, almost meaningless - there's no need to keep track of the passage of time in a place where nothing will ever happen save for your own slow, agonizing descent into utter torpor - and Jamie only becomes aware of things slowly, in tiny increments. He thinks he can hear a sound, a shuffling noise like something moving through the sand, but in short order he convinces himself that he's just hearing things. Nobody else is here to make such a noise, after all.

The hand on his shoulder startles him, and with a jerk he straightens and twists around to look behind him. There's no one there, of course. Jamie wasn't really expecting otherwise, but there's still a pang of something like disappointment.

He sighs, breath clouding in the air a little. Then he hears something else, something with enough magical oomph behind it to penetrate the little bubble of isolation Jamie's built for himself. His name.

"Is - is someone there?" His voice is hesitant, little more than a whisper.