A joy hard-learned in winter was the warming of the bed
You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
The downfall of being so stoic, Deimos, is that those who lack significant emotional intelligence cannot easily glean your discomfort. Case in point: our young Dragoon is blissfully unaware of the General's ire, too focused on figuring out the straps of the sleigh to notice when the silence stretches almost too long. Only when it's secure does he look up, and by then the Sword is on his way, Koa taking elongated strides to catch his pace.
A sharp mental whistle has Pipsqueak appearing from wherever she's been, her long body shooting out of a snow bank in a flurry of fat, wet flakes. Utterly pleased with herself, she clambers onto Koa's sled as the boy catches up, a warm laugh rumbling from beneath his scarf. "It's a pedestal well earned," the young man counters brightly, apple cheeks rosy from the winter's chill.
Though the brightness fades at the raised eyebrow, the pointed implication in the General's tone. Koa has the good sense to look properly chagrined, his voice serious when he speaks again. "You're a champion of Safrin," he begins in answer, gaze casting down to the snow in front of him as though the right thing to say might be written within. "And a great man. A hero. Nobody back home would dispute that. And even if you weren't everything you are... People should be judged on their actions, not their blood." A lesson Stormbreak has been late to learn, but is slowly coming around to.
A sharp mental whistle has Pipsqueak appearing from wherever she's been, her long body shooting out of a snow bank in a flurry of fat, wet flakes. Utterly pleased with herself, she clambers onto Koa's sled as the boy catches up, a warm laugh rumbling from beneath his scarf. "It's a pedestal well earned," the young man counters brightly, apple cheeks rosy from the winter's chill.
Though the brightness fades at the raised eyebrow, the pointed implication in the General's tone. Koa has the good sense to look properly chagrined, his voice serious when he speaks again. "You're a champion of Safrin," he begins in answer, gaze casting down to the snow in front of him as though the right thing to say might be written within. "And a great man. A hero. Nobody back home would dispute that. And even if you weren't everything you are... People should be judged on their actions, not their blood." A lesson Stormbreak has been late to learn, but is slowly coming around to.
Koa Carpenter
Wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within
Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
