[AnOTP]: For Ines
Curufin is standing in the doorway of a room that used to - no, does - belong to a certain younger brother, and frowning. Caranthir turned his back on all of them. He doesn't feel greatly compelled to seek him out and drag him back, even if he understands the need.
His irritation is only a faint prickle, and he's not sure why it's there at all. After all, it's not so much a chore.
Perhaps he's just irritated. Heat always makes Curufin's temper shorter, his control less sure. And it's a hot day, a thirsty day.
He needs to be outside.
Curufin turns sharply, toward the outdoors.
His irritation is only a faint prickle, and he's not sure why it's there at all. After all, it's not so much a chore.
Perhaps he's just irritated. Heat always makes Curufin's temper shorter, his control less sure. And it's a hot day, a thirsty day.
He needs to be outside.
Curufin turns sharply, toward the outdoors.