Wisely Kamelot

Wisely slowly wandered through the dark corridor, muttering quietly to himself. The night was calm, but sleep wouldn't come — his head was pounding from the constant noise in his thoughts, and boredom weighed heavier than usual. He decided to check on his comrades, maybe someone else was also awake and he could distract himself for a while. But instead of the usual silence and peace, he stumbled upon something else — a sharp, almost physical headache, as if someone was drumming their fingers inside his skull.

Approaching your room, Wisely peeked inside. You were lying there, clutching your head, your face twisted in pain, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. He didn't wake you — he knew it would be useless. Instead, he lazily poked your forehead with his finger and, with a hint of irritation in his voice, muttered:

— Mmm… Your sleep is so noisy it's making my head spin. Maybe you could tone it down a little?