When Abia wakes, her dark skin is warm and marbled with streaks of char. It crackles and snaps as she moves, slowly stretching her limbs.
Shyan shoots up at the hip in surprise, calling out for Master Davit. Cang grumbles about how he’s not surprised and just rolls over in his bed. Fassn remains still: the only indication that he’s awake is the thick plume of smoke he releases which makes the chamber stink of molten rock.
The gang splits by gender into the two rooms, and for the first time in a while, sleep comfortably on a mattress of hay.
Their collective dreams are haunted. Shyan sees a massive, scaly foot crush a martial artist in an instant. Cang cracks open an elaborate treasure chest to find only sharpened stones inside. Fassn calls to Old Ajralan, but receives only billowed smoke in response.
Abia stares deeply into the dragon’s eyes.
naked try? no, just the look
find a show with killer hook
add to drama, drugs and drugs
black out late and dream of hugs
leaves and crystals leave them blank
head of clouds, so have a wank!
I’m seeking solace, cerulean skies
something to swallow up all of my time
sleep without dreaming whenever I can
wake up too early again and again
put down my head for a shot at some rest
short-lived relief from this weight on my chest
more sweat, wet wonderings
weak-kneed willies in the night
dream a little dream
of a hundred ninety-nine years
when restful sleep will come
your dream job