It was hazy, chasing after something that couldn't be obtained. Swords clashing, screams and shouting. Sleepless nights, fitful rest. If one truly knew him.
They would have known that this was normal.
All the pressure on him had made it like he was sleeping on the cold floor. Or a bed of stones. Their eyes bleared open, if they could see their own self, they were probably bleakly. Those bleak eyes stared into the darkness and the abyss. He rubbed his face for a moment and let out a sigh. At first it had seemed like he would be getting enough rest but in the end, he couldn't even stay asleep. He knocked his head against the pillow.
Adjusting to the darkness made him stare down at his arm, the fresh bruise presenting itself. He sighed, "Bandages." He would need to cover it to hide it from them. A memory fleeted its way to his mind, or perhaps it was merely a daydream.
