Despite transforming her head into a slumber-turtle, the noise infiltrated clear as a bell. She used her wings to shrug the comforter on top of it all, but the sounds still came through. She wanted to sleep, her body demanded that she sleep, but she was so acutely and maddeningly aware of every little noise, that blissful oblivion refused to take her. How was it that the mare placed in charge of dreams shared half the credit for Cadence’s insomnia? 