Flora got her suspicion confirmed about her Master, Santa Claus upon seeing him that morning.
She had been afraid that since the time he had his first dream, he would not be able to sleep and she was right. Ever since Santa Claus had had his first dream, he had been having issues sleeping.
The dreams became a daily occurrence for him and in each and every one; Mrs. Claus was there accusing him as usual or doing one thing or the other to get a rise out of him.
He knew of course that it was not her but what he did not know was how to stop the dreams from occurring. This was the weaver's way of trying to get to him and he hated to admit that it was working.
"What is the matter master, you do not look well." Flora asked him, her face concerned.
"I have not been sleeping properly Flora and I need something, any magical potion that can help me sleep."
