Sun Mote Copse Sleeping well, no bad dreams

Maybe @Giana or @Honey, or maybe even a wild @Bastian

A frigid breeze blew in from the east and it chilled Ar-Khalba to the bone. Such a thing was foreign to the grove watcher. Surrendra, his homeland, had been such a warm and arid place. The winter was mild and dry, comfortable -- but here, it was different in every way. It was unbearable. There were times, when the wind picked up, that Ar-Khalba would close his eyes and think wistfully of Surrendra and the warmth of Ashtorath's private chambers.

Sometimes it helped, but every time Ar-Khalba opened his eyes, he found himself just as cold as before.

As the wind picked up yet again, bringing with it a teeth-chattering chill, Ar-Khalba sought shelter within the grove. His eyes fell on a fallen tree, hollowed by rot. He made his way to it and climbed inside. Curling into himself for warmth, Ar-Khalba closed his eyes and thought of rolling desert sands.