Sabre woke briefly in the depths of the night, a nightmare, he sat bolt upright sweating. In the dream he had become an Angelic, the great powerful wings like his hair, silvery white, he smelled like them too in the dreams. He had been caught by his own people, by Abigor, and he was being tortured.
Awake now he stared wildly round the room, trying to fathom out where he actually was. It slowly started to come back to him. He was home back in the Tenth Ring, in the North Wing.....now his, he was King....not a filthy Angelic.
He saw a figure in the chair by the bed dozing, it was Abigor.
"Gor." He whispered softly.
He wanted to be held, for 'Gor to chase the bad dreams away....as only he could.