RP - Meridian - Finally home (for smoothangel)
Who: Enoch and Armaros
When: Day 57, morning
Where: His and Armaros's home
What: After a solid day of trekking north to the forest and gathering firewood there, Enoch finally returns home.
He hadn't stopped to rest very much, and definitely hadn't eaten enough for all the work he was doing - though luckily what he did eat was starchy. His body had been built up for endurance over the centuries, and his gradual ascension had only seemed to augment this, so he wasn't in danger of fainting or anything.
Still, though, sleep deprivation is sleep deprivation. He'd been active for more than a full day without meaningful rest. He smiled at the sight of what he couldn't help but begin to think of as home (despite the articles of evidence of the young childless couple that had lived there before, respectfully and carefully stored somewhere safe).
Enoch dragged the large warehouse dolly through the backyard gate and left it there, too tired and cold to unload the firewood and return it to where he'd found it as he'd wanted. He'd just take some of the smaller pieces that didn't need much further cutting to put in the fireplace (a simple matter to figure out with the clear ventilation for smoke and lack of ability to close it, ruling out use as an oven).
He'd brought back something other than fuel for warming fires all winter - he clutched a small bag in his left hand, tightly for his numbed fingertips. It jangled lightly with every step. The blackened jewelry in his friend's hair when he'd washed up on shore had been testament to what he'd been through nearly as much as the state of his body - Armaros being unable to care for his appearance was all too telling, and Enoch felt a need to see Armaros restored in every way possible, even if some new hair clips and thin bangles could only help his self esteem. They weren't fancy, only shiny, but that sort of thing was what Armaros liked, right?
This bag was dropped with a light clink on the fireplace ledge as he shoved the armload of wood inside. Unfortunately, he had yet to figure out what the box of matches in one of the bedroom's desk drawers was for, the box old and its instructions faded. So he started the fire by taking the metal poker and striking the Arch against it inside the fireplace to create sparks until the wood caught.
When he'd stoked the fire into a healthy blaze, he took the bag with the jewelry up again, ready to go wake Armaros - he should be waking up either now or in a couple of hours, right? But the fire was so inviting, his body chilled and numb from the long trek.
It wouldn't make a difference to Armaros if he rested by the fire for a few moments before giving him his gift, would it?
Enoch knelt in front of the ledge, and before he was aware enough of it to stop himself, drifted off to sleep.
And that's how Armaros would find him - slumped forward on his knees in the glow of the crackling flame, slumbering peacefully despite the awkward position.
When: Day 57, morning
Where: His and Armaros's home
What: After a solid day of trekking north to the forest and gathering firewood there, Enoch finally returns home.
He hadn't stopped to rest very much, and definitely hadn't eaten enough for all the work he was doing - though luckily what he did eat was starchy. His body had been built up for endurance over the centuries, and his gradual ascension had only seemed to augment this, so he wasn't in danger of fainting or anything.
Still, though, sleep deprivation is sleep deprivation. He'd been active for more than a full day without meaningful rest. He smiled at the sight of what he couldn't help but begin to think of as home (despite the articles of evidence of the young childless couple that had lived there before, respectfully and carefully stored somewhere safe).
Enoch dragged the large warehouse dolly through the backyard gate and left it there, too tired and cold to unload the firewood and return it to where he'd found it as he'd wanted. He'd just take some of the smaller pieces that didn't need much further cutting to put in the fireplace (a simple matter to figure out with the clear ventilation for smoke and lack of ability to close it, ruling out use as an oven).
He'd brought back something other than fuel for warming fires all winter - he clutched a small bag in his left hand, tightly for his numbed fingertips. It jangled lightly with every step. The blackened jewelry in his friend's hair when he'd washed up on shore had been testament to what he'd been through nearly as much as the state of his body - Armaros being unable to care for his appearance was all too telling, and Enoch felt a need to see Armaros restored in every way possible, even if some new hair clips and thin bangles could only help his self esteem. They weren't fancy, only shiny, but that sort of thing was what Armaros liked, right?
This bag was dropped with a light clink on the fireplace ledge as he shoved the armload of wood inside. Unfortunately, he had yet to figure out what the box of matches in one of the bedroom's desk drawers was for, the box old and its instructions faded. So he started the fire by taking the metal poker and striking the Arch against it inside the fireplace to create sparks until the wood caught.
When he'd stoked the fire into a healthy blaze, he took the bag with the jewelry up again, ready to go wake Armaros - he should be waking up either now or in a couple of hours, right? But the fire was so inviting, his body chilled and numb from the long trek.
It wouldn't make a difference to Armaros if he rested by the fire for a few moments before giving him his gift, would it?
Enoch knelt in front of the ledge, and before he was aware enough of it to stop himself, drifted off to sleep.
And that's how Armaros would find him - slumped forward on his knees in the glow of the crackling flame, slumbering peacefully despite the awkward position.