[snapshot]

[illgotten]

It's sunset before he makes his way back to the far side of the woods, still looking white and sick and spent. His knuckles have taken damage from the bark of several innocent trees, but otherwise he's in one piece, at least literally.

Comments

[girdleforakiss]

Gawain is sitting on the stoop, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands, and one beside him.

"Evening," he says.

[illgotten]

Mordred lets the gate fall shut and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Hi."

[girdleforakiss]

Gawain picks up the extra mug and holds it out.

[illgotten]

He stares a moment, and then, slowly, comes over to take it. "Sorry," distantly.

[dragon_dealer]

Cimorene's not looking so well herself, though she's more full of resolve than anything, looking ready to hit something hard.

[illgotten]

He sees her, makes no effort to pretend he hasn't, but doesn't respond to her presence. Possibly this is prudence, given the stormclouds trailing her.

[dragon_dealer]

A moment later she notices him, tensing first at finding she's not alone, and then releasing a bit of it when she notices who it is. "Getting late for a walk."

[illgotten]

"Yeah." He puts a hand up to suck at a particularly nasty graze, not looking at her.

[inglewoodblues]

Ragnelle comes to meet him at the edge of trees near the house, with a bowl in her hands filled with hot water and sage and lavender and a few other late herbs with a sharp scent to them. Her hair is pulled back in a fat braid, as if she were preparing to sleep; she has a cloth draped over her arm at the wrist. She offers him a very quiet smile. "Brother."

[illgotten]

He falters then, the tremors coming back. "I--"

[inglewoodblues]

"Soft now." She puts a hand on his shoulder.

[illgotten]

"Lady--" desperately.