"Kiada," Fox drawls, a hint of amused admonishment in his voice as he waits for her to get her things together; in the meantime, he moves to the sled to clear away the (very small amount, honestly) kindling he'd collected. Once they're warm enough, he tells himself, they'll come back out again and collect more. Twice as much, even.
"If you're good," he repeats with a raise of his eyebrows that suggests he's unsure of her ability to be good for longer than a minute or two. Regardless, until then, the sled is hers, and he beckons to it in a way that's meant to be chivalrous, but ends up roguish. "Alright, hold on tight," he tells her once she's comfortable, before setting off across the snow at an admittedly plodding pace.
They've been standing around for a bit, okay? He's cold.
"If you're good," he repeats with a raise of his eyebrows that suggests he's unsure of her ability to be good for longer than a minute or two. Regardless, until then, the sled is hers, and he beckons to it in a way that's meant to be chivalrous, but ends up roguish. "Alright, hold on tight," he tells her once she's comfortable, before setting off across the snow at an admittedly plodding pace.
They've been standing around for a bit, okay? He's cold.
welcome to the desecration, baby
we built you up and we'll tear you right down
Horns: Small, bone-like protrusions (aka your stereotypical devil horns) that are easy to miss in his hair.
