An Addendum to the party's rest in the Ice Temple of the Baba Yaga. This honor's both Mikey's character choice and D&D's canon that elves do not need to sleep. In an attempt to remedy my error, I hope this narrative will suffice:
In a dimly lit room of the Ice Temple of the Baba Yaga, with his companions sleeping, shadows danced along the walls as Tyke (the child within the temple) begins to hum. The gentle hum of a lullaby floated through the air. Lucky sat in a plush armchair, his eyes weary with fatigue from battle, glazed over as if they were peering into another realm. The soft flicker of candlelight cast a warm glow, illuminating the delicate features of his elven face, which bore a hint of serenity mixed with uncertainty.
As the melody swirled around him, an almost tangible force seemed to weave its way into the atmosphere. It wrapped around him like a soft blanket, drawing him deeper into his own thoughts. The hum began to resonate within, a subtle vibration that resonated with his very being. With each note, the world outside faded, leaving only the soothing sound and the gentle weight of the chair cradling them.
His eyelids fluttered and darted wildly in his trance, struggling against the pull of this force. The air thickened, almost electric with a mystical energy that whispered secrets of tranquility. It beckoned him closer, urging him to surrender to the gentle tide-- though not of sleep, but of time itself. The room grew quieter, the sounds of the outside world muffled as if all of them found themselves encased in a glass hourglass.
Lucky succumbed. His breathing slowed, becoming deep and rhythmic, a soft cadence that matched the lullaby’s tempo as time itself warped and distorted. The mysterious force enveloped him and his companions completely now, and as the rest of them drifted into that profound stillness, their minds beginning to dance among the shadows and slipping into the comforting embrace of a dream, Lucky remained aware but unable to snap himself out of his trance, becoming more and more like a prison in this strange, icy place. The candles and fireplace burned quicker around him, eventually being snuffed out. The sensations that flooded his mind were strange and confusing. What this a dream? Was this a product of someone's subconscious?
One panicked question begot another as dread filled his thoughts. Just as this strange tide was about to crecendo, he snapped from his trance as Tyke sat across from him. "Oh! You're the first one up. You all have been resting for quite a while."
Reference Source:
Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes (p. 38), in the "Dreams from Beyond Memory": Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one's primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moon bow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams.