Wyatt hums, sips, and goes on to shake his head eloquently. "I haven't the faintest. I thought it was wood, or water. Tenth's pearl, and fifth's...no, fifth's wood."

He huffs through a small, wry smile. To think he can remember things like that, but not his late wife's middle name. But on the other hand, every glimpse of a memory, fuzzy or otherwise, is good.

"I think you might be right, but don't take my word on it. Why?"