Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jan 15, 2015 8:51:57 GMT -8
T’kar choked down an oath of an entirely different sort as Dalonia started undressing. Some reactions, after all, are not wholly subject to control. He spun to face the wall, grappling with his thoughts. Couldn’t she have warned him?
“He won’t squish you,” he assured her, without looking away from the wall. It was amazing how fascinating the wall could be when you needed it to be so. He stayed there for a few more minutes, bringing his thoughts back to hand.
His thoughts firmly in hand, he turned back around. Dalonia was buried under the covers, face down in the pillow. He smiled slightly at the sight of her Moonlight flitt curled up on the center of her back. They looked so peaceful. Still smiling, he reached for some of his paperwork, than froze. He’d bloody outsmarted himself… how was he supposed to get the firelizards fed when he’d sworn not to leave the room?
I don’t like this.
T’kar raised an eyebrow at the dragon. Could you ask P’nor to ask the kitchen to send up some scrap meat?
Ancalanath stared at his rider through one great, whirling, green-blue eye with spots of orange streaking through it.
We can fly this evening, right now we have to make sure the Sr. WherHandler doesn’t die from exhaustion.
Ancalanath heaved a mental sigh. Raising his head, he talked briefly with P’nor’s Blue Thireth. It should arrive shortly.
Pulling his own pants on, T’kar slipped over to the door and opened it a crack, as a signal to the meat delivery to just come in.
Normally the sound of another person moving around in the same room would have kept her awake. The most Dalonia did, however was to grunt when the door creaked slight as it was opened. She was basically gone to the world and as she shifted in the bed, Pest made sure to keep his perch. Turning her head, the wherhandler's face was exposed and her expression in sleep was far softer than any she'd ever worn in her waking hours. Even in her own room she did not have such untroubled sleep.