Ah, sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream.
In this case, you dream of magic carpet rides... far too fast, far too high up, and with occasional jolting drops as the magic fades for a few seconds to a minute or more. Eventually the cursed thing drops you into a mountainside from over a mile up, and you wake, shivering.
It does not feel as if you slept at all. In fact, come to think of it, it would have been more restful to run a marathon than to live through that nightmare. Worse, each time you try to nap afterwards, visions of a fluffy, light blue carpet trying to look innocent and inviting dance before your closed eyes.
The night passes very slowly. If this is what Lauren dealt with for a week... You're amazed she was able to even move when you met her, let alone cast spells and act with any semblance of intelligence.
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