don't you know i'm no good for you?
He’s been sleeping downstairs since it happened, typically spending his nights in his German Shepherd shift, curled up in Haai’s nests of blankets and throws on the couch. She accompanies him most nights, one canine and one canine-like griffin, curled together in a spread of fur and wings. But Sunjata has had to work up to his exhaustion in order to sleep through the night and through the nightmares that plagued him, and so the Flood has spent most of the evenings when everyone has gone to sleep or upstairs for the night, to spend it cleaning the walls of the home from the smoke, preparing sandbags outside to be placed around the front of the home for monsoon season.
This evening, he’s done just that. A few more bags made into the pile just outside the front door, the inside a slight mess of rags and water that constantly ran brown from smoke until he could get it clear. And he tried to clean it up the best he could, leaving the empty bucket turned over in the sink, washed and hung the rags he’d used to clean the walls, and kept the empty bags used for sand alongside the wheelbarrow of sand outside in a neat pile.
Only then does he curl back up against Haai, tucking his canine head under her wing, tail tucked in and long legs tucked in for rest too. He’s been asleep for a few hours now, trying to recoup some of his exhaustion before the nightmares plague him again.
For now, though, the moon is high in the sky, and he’s settled in — stirring occasionally with whines and ears that flinch backward, trying to make it through the night.
This evening, he’s done just that. A few more bags made into the pile just outside the front door, the inside a slight mess of rags and water that constantly ran brown from smoke until he could get it clear. And he tried to clean it up the best he could, leaving the empty bucket turned over in the sink, washed and hung the rags he’d used to clean the walls, and kept the empty bags used for sand alongside the wheelbarrow of sand outside in a neat pile.
Only then does he curl back up against Haai, tucking his canine head under her wing, tail tucked in and long legs tucked in for rest too. He’s been asleep for a few hours now, trying to recoup some of his exhaustion before the nightmares plague him again.
For now, though, the moon is high in the sky, and he’s settled in — stirring occasionally with whines and ears that flinch backward, trying to make it through the night.
i've learned to lose, you can't afford to
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
