Having just straightened up after finishing his fuckery with the firewood, Kiada is a sight for sore eyes and then some, though Fox had hoped he might help keep her dry this morning. Nonetheless, he accepts the coffee with visible gratitude, his cold cheek warmed instantly by the sweet caress of her lips. "Morning," he rumbles, wiping his wet face with a sleeve that's just as soaked, and taking a long sip of the coffee.
"That's just what I needed," he says with a smile, his breath fogging the air from the heat of the drink. "And your company is help enough. You should stay under the awning where it's dry," he tells her, grabbing up a couple of the branches she's been looking at to haul them out of the path, but there's a lot to do. "I wouldn't want you to get wet, or muddy."
"That's just what I needed," he says with a smile, his breath fogging the air from the heat of the drink. "And your company is help enough. You should stay under the awning where it's dry," he tells her, grabbing up a couple of the branches she's been looking at to haul them out of the path, but there's a lot to do. "I wouldn't want you to get wet, or muddy."
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.
