>>5297714Torpor does not come easily this time, nor restfully. While the Novice I tending to her potions, and the first watch is going about their vigilant patrols of the tunnels around the Devourer’s cavern, you lay sleeping… And dreaming.
Dreams are not native to your kind—well, not your father’s kind, you suppose. You have no idea if your Degenerate mother dreamt or not. The frivolous fancy is a byproduct of a mammalian mind’s defective design: a hallucination with tangential connection to reality, disorganized and jumbled and always emotional. You have heard that they do this thing and, when you experience the strange vision in your spell of torpor, your first instinct is shame and disappointment in yourself. You look about the strange environs which surround you—lush with green material resembling the living ‘plants’ you bested a week prior, surveyed from atop a terraced pyramid of white stone, carved with countless swirling designs. It is fantastical, wondrous, a vision of the surface… But one you should be incapable of having, if you were a true dragon.
>HAVE NOT SHAME, BUT PRIDE. 