Sunlight illuminated the large tent, trickling through the small gaps
in the fabric at the tops of each side of the flap. A Kelvic’s eyes
blinked open, blurry from sleep and mindlessly annoyed at the light
that dared disturb his slumber. His heavy lids slid shut, light be
damned. The calls of ravens and songbirds in the colorful forest
reminded him that he had overslept and neglected his optional, but
still routine chores. Letting out a groan, he moved to stretch and
yawn, but found one arm was not responding to his commands. He looked
down to his left and found his armed trapped under a girl. A girl, as
naked as he was, in his bed. He blinked again, somewhat disoriented by
the situation. Short, alabaster hair and a myriad of scars and tiny
bruises. A name floated to him. Joanna. He smiled.
It seemed that they had shifted closer together during the night,
which would explain why he had been warm and comfortable. A sound
night of sleep. Bed head plagued Beodan, his dark brown hair slightly
more disheveled in comparison to the normally planned-chaos that was
his normal hair style. He rolled closer to her and reached over to her
opposite side, lifting her up gently to free his arm. He laid her back
down on the pillow, and pulled the sheets up over her body to ward off
the cool morning air. He favored her sleeping form with another smile,
before rising quietly from the bed. He padded across the hard packed
floor towards the desk, more specifically the kettle. He frowned
thoughtfully, a carpet for the tent’s interior would be handy, so the
flat stones and dirt would not be so shockingly cold on one’s feet. A
click of his flint and water for tea was on its way to boil. Onwards
and upwards, no time to dwell on would be purchases.
Dan grabbed a cup from the shelf. No, two cups, he amended, grabbing
the extra. The habit of grabbing a single cup for himself had long
been subconscious. What would be good for the morning? Something with
citrus, and of course peppermint. Lemongrass, rose hips, and
peppermint? That sounded good! He chuckled nonverbally to himself,
ever aware of the sleeping woman in the room. He collected the herbs
in the bottom of each cup and poured the steaming liquid over the top.
Letting them sit on the desk, he picked up a pair of clippers and left
the tent. Snip, snip.. snip snip, snip. He trimmed the old growths off
of his rows of potted plants, or at least the ones that needed it,
then headed back inside. The rustling of sheets, his guest mare was
waking up. He picked up the tea and went to the bedside.
“Goodmorning!” he whispered, “How did you sleep?”
in the fabric at the tops of each side of the flap. A Kelvic’s eyes
blinked open, blurry from sleep and mindlessly annoyed at the light
that dared disturb his slumber. His heavy lids slid shut, light be
damned. The calls of ravens and songbirds in the colorful forest
reminded him that he had overslept and neglected his optional, but
still routine chores. Letting out a groan, he moved to stretch and
yawn, but found one arm was not responding to his commands. He looked
down to his left and found his armed trapped under a girl. A girl, as
naked as he was, in his bed. He blinked again, somewhat disoriented by
the situation. Short, alabaster hair and a myriad of scars and tiny
bruises. A name floated to him. Joanna. He smiled.
It seemed that they had shifted closer together during the night,
which would explain why he had been warm and comfortable. A sound
night of sleep. Bed head plagued Beodan, his dark brown hair slightly
more disheveled in comparison to the normally planned-chaos that was
his normal hair style. He rolled closer to her and reached over to her
opposite side, lifting her up gently to free his arm. He laid her back
down on the pillow, and pulled the sheets up over her body to ward off
the cool morning air. He favored her sleeping form with another smile,
before rising quietly from the bed. He padded across the hard packed
floor towards the desk, more specifically the kettle. He frowned
thoughtfully, a carpet for the tent’s interior would be handy, so the
flat stones and dirt would not be so shockingly cold on one’s feet. A
click of his flint and water for tea was on its way to boil. Onwards
and upwards, no time to dwell on would be purchases.
Dan grabbed a cup from the shelf. No, two cups, he amended, grabbing
the extra. The habit of grabbing a single cup for himself had long
been subconscious. What would be good for the morning? Something with
citrus, and of course peppermint. Lemongrass, rose hips, and
peppermint? That sounded good! He chuckled nonverbally to himself,
ever aware of the sleeping woman in the room. He collected the herbs
in the bottom of each cup and poured the steaming liquid over the top.
Letting them sit on the desk, he picked up a pair of clippers and left
the tent. Snip, snip.. snip snip, snip. He trimmed the old growths off
of his rows of potted plants, or at least the ones that needed it,
then headed back inside. The rustling of sheets, his guest mare was
waking up. He picked up the tea and went to the bedside.
“Goodmorning!” he whispered, “How did you sleep?”