for the light in my eyes is strange

[northseaflotsam]

Things are a little better now -- or at least a little more stable. Clar has gone home, as abruptly as she arrived, and the scent of herbs and smoke has gradually faded out of the apartment. It's easier to maintain his defenses this way, easier to slip back into the habit of being Mike Morgan, who worries about small things, and looks ahead no

Comments

[petitmorte]

Well, in a way he does find him. Sagramore is curled up contently in a warm spot, his long-lashed eyes half-closed so that just a little sun comes in. He's always been a bit of a basker, and this is a perfect spot. It even smells a little like heather.

He's situated so that it wouldn't be difficult at all for someone to trip over him, should that someone not be on the lookout for skinny Hungarian landmines.

[northseaflotsam]

Mordred doesn't, but only just. "Damn--" And then he stops, with a curious sense of deja vu.

[petitmorte]

Sagramore rolls over, lets his eyes flutter open, and grins, joyfully. "Sir!"

[northseaflotsam]

He stares for a moment, utterly bewildered. "What in God's name--?"