Hideaway Strath Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'

He allows her to be distracted from her nightmares with stories of his own. He nods slowly, not looking down at her, but nuzzling into her just as much as she did him.

“The dream I was having before you woke up was...” He pauses trailing off briefly. “Not really a nightmare, but maybe a memory of one. When my mother got her arm ripped off in a fight.” He doesn’t look at her when he speaks, instead he gazes longingly at the horizon at the memory of his mother. “She didn’t deserve it either, but does it really matter when you’re on the ‘wrong side’? She was a stern, but kind woman.” His words are almost distracted as he conjures up the memory of her. 

Finally, he sighs seeming to come back to reality. “I’ve had many more than just that one as well.”