Blackfeather Woods my sun and stars

Dreams of formless things filled his mind every night. Dreams of scents, of sounds and sensations. But those dreams often ended in a rather unpleasant way. This time, his pillow, which happened to be his older and most comfortable brother, forsook him in the most of unexpected of moments. His dreamy head fell down with a dry thud, and he jerked himself awake before crying in tantrum. He did not understand what was going on, but his instincts knew exactly what to do.

With heavy eyelids and still a long time left of sleep, the palest of the spiderlings crawled his way up to mommy, who had moved to a cold place for some reason. He rejected the cold, and curled himself in the warmest of his mother's side, whichever that was, before making one more attempt to return to his sweet dream.