Snippet #2066839

Connor slept almost unheard in his sleep on the thin weaved bed. He was used to it although anyone else who slept would say its unfit for human use. It was like own little heaven to him though. He drelmpt quietly but stirred somewhat after about an hour. He saw his mother and him if she hadn't died it was a recurring dream that always ended a different way. In this one he sat at the small table as he did with his mother across from him. She was a few inches shorter and her shiny black hair rested on her shoulders. A sound was heard outside and the two rushed out she grabbing the axe that was hers before but now Connor's. Her son rushed out behind her and they saw a villager fall over dead. Connor nodded to his mother and observed the frostbitten neck and saw a muscular frost mage laughing. The dark haired woman dashed forward at an amazing speed and hacked away at the mage before he froze her in a block of ice. He walked away and Connor fell to his knees by the ice. "No no no. " he screamed then woke up and rolled out of the bed and fell onto the rock hard floor. "Ow " he said lowly as not to awake the others. He shook off the pain and jumped back in the bed and shook himself to get the anxiety away. He never had good dreams unless he was in his tree and his axe in hand which he had neither of currently. He wouldn't attack the elf and he hoped if he played it good he would get it back. The thought of getting it back cheered him up just enough to fall back into a calm sleep.