[Wild Roses] Spawn (technically, spawn's wife)
Title: nap and a meal
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Natalia, Griffin, Mischa
Prompt: 46C "journey"
Word Count: 326
Notes: sometime after a bottle of black dye, before sweetgrass and smoke.
She's not sure why they're constantly eating, or what that has to do with the fact that none of the three of them has fallen over to exhaustion yet--everything? nothing at all?--and for that matter why Mischa is looking at her like that, and then Griffin's hands are on her shoulders and she's collapsing on top of a blanket that wasn't there a moment ago.
She blinks up at them. They frown back, glance at each other, then Griffin says something in a nonsense tongue, and Mischa snorts like a dog in response.
They flump down next to her, one on either side, and Mischa leans over, kisses the hair next to her temple. She leans up against him, tucks her head under his chin for a moment before he starts to move and then she's falling, flailing out with her hands.
She stops before she hits his lap, a hand on her shoulder, and when she glances back Griffin is rubbing at his nose in a rueful way.
"Sorry," she mouths, and he shakes his head, letting go of her as Mischa wraps himself around her, tucks his chin over her head and curves himself into a comfortable place to curl up. She doesn't mean to, but she falls asleep like that.
When she wakes there are two rabbits and a fire nearby, and Griffin is frowning intently into the coals, watching something cook.
She stares as he reaches in, barehanded, and bats a--potato?--out of the coals, onto a smooth stone. It steams enormously when he cuts into it, so much so that she wonders why it didn't explode in the fire, but then the smell hits her and she's suddenly ravenous.
"Rabbit's not quite done," Mischa rumbles at her, and she untucks herself from his arms, peers up at him suspiciously, but if he was grinning when he spoke he's solemn-faced now, the serious young man she met in her father's house.
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Natalia, Griffin, Mischa
Prompt: 46C "journey"
Word Count: 326
Notes: sometime after a bottle of black dye, before sweetgrass and smoke.
She's not sure why they're constantly eating, or what that has to do with the fact that none of the three of them has fallen over to exhaustion yet--everything? nothing at all?--and for that matter why Mischa is looking at her like that, and then Griffin's hands are on her shoulders and she's collapsing on top of a blanket that wasn't there a moment ago.
She blinks up at them. They frown back, glance at each other, then Griffin says something in a nonsense tongue, and Mischa snorts like a dog in response.
They flump down next to her, one on either side, and Mischa leans over, kisses the hair next to her temple. She leans up against him, tucks her head under his chin for a moment before he starts to move and then she's falling, flailing out with her hands.
She stops before she hits his lap, a hand on her shoulder, and when she glances back Griffin is rubbing at his nose in a rueful way.
"Sorry," she mouths, and he shakes his head, letting go of her as Mischa wraps himself around her, tucks his chin over her head and curves himself into a comfortable place to curl up. She doesn't mean to, but she falls asleep like that.
When she wakes there are two rabbits and a fire nearby, and Griffin is frowning intently into the coals, watching something cook.
She stares as he reaches in, barehanded, and bats a--potato?--out of the coals, onto a smooth stone. It steams enormously when he cuts into it, so much so that she wonders why it didn't explode in the fire, but then the smell hits her and she's suddenly ravenous.
"Rabbit's not quite done," Mischa rumbles at her, and she untucks herself from his arms, peers up at him suspiciously, but if he was grinning when he spoke he's solemn-faced now, the serious young man she met in her father's house.