A First Dream

[Kaska Villahotes]

Kaska folded his arms across his narrow chest and looked out at the landscape. It was in black and white, like most of the times he dreamed. Realistically he was laying in a ditch in Wind Reach somewhere, curled around his mace and a bottle of gutter liquor. But in his dreams he could escape. He was the same skinny bastard he always was, with his hair in ratted dreadlocks that were less bright crimson and more dirty auburn from the places he slept. Here was at least warm, less freezing from the mountain air. Here his stomach was always filled, he wasn't being mugged or raped, he could relax.

He still glared at it.

Reality might have sucked worse than he did on an average evening, but it was something palpable he could see and touch. Dream worlds just made him uncomfortable. The mace over his back was weightless, his clothing didn't itch. It was an alien feeling. He took a deep breath. If he had to be asleep for eight hours, he could at least make the most of it before someone kicked him in the face or another drudge decided to try and steal his sleeping spot.