how could I freeze when you're hotter than hell?

i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

The Wildwood is thick with LongHeat, the air heavy with warmth, all green hush and golden light filtering through the canopy. Distant birdsong weaves through the branches, and insects hum lazily through the underbrush. Remi moves easily along the worn trail, sandals scuffing against roots and old moss, his shirt loose and half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up past his elbows. A woven satchel bounces gently against his hip with each step, and a mischievous sort of smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"You know," he calls over his shoulder to where Ronin walks just behind him, "We could have flown, but then you would have missed me tripping over that last root, and I know how much joy you get from watching me suffer in very small, very inconvenient ways."

The trail bends, and Remi tugs a low-hanging branch aside with one hand, pausing only to grin at his husband before pushing forward again. "I thought we could grab a few pieces of the old cottage. You know—make a picture frame or something for Flora. A bit of home she can hang up on her glorified raft."

There’s no trace of guilt in the words, though the glint in his sea-glass eyes is just a little too innocent.

The path opens at last into a familiar clearing—overgrown now, but unmistakable. The ruins of the little cottage sit nestled beneath the boughs like a memory half-sketched back into being, its bones still intact, if softened by moss and time.

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky