"It's no trouble at all," Fox assures her with a smile, shifting to grab a cast iron pot from one of the lower cupboards and setting it between them. He leaves Kiada in charge of cutting carrots and potatoes, while the hunter goes digging in his icebox for some meat to add. "I hope you like stew, because that's about the only thing I can cook decently," he warns her.
Finding himself wanting to apologise for Kiada's losses despite having not needed it himself, Fox clears his throat and offers her a friendly shrug. "Family is what you make it, right?" he says. (Which, if that's true, explains a lot about why he's been on his own for so fucking long).
Tossing some diced venison into the pot and rummaging around for seasonings, Fox glances around to her and furrows his brow. "I'm glad you did," he says honestly. "The number of people who didn't make it, who tried to help but failed... it was carnage out there."
Finding himself wanting to apologise for Kiada's losses despite having not needed it himself, Fox clears his throat and offers her a friendly shrug. "Family is what you make it, right?" he says. (Which, if that's true, explains a lot about why he's been on his own for so fucking long).
Tossing some diced venison into the pot and rummaging around for seasonings, Fox glances around to her and furrows his brow. "I'm glad you did," he says honestly. "The number of people who didn't make it, who tried to help but failed... it was carnage out there."
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.
