don't you know i'm no good for you?
A whine slips from Haai’s throat as Nate pulls the pear away, but eventually the stubborn griffin follows the instruction, sitting and tucking her wings in tight, lifting a paw as if she were to offer a high five should Nate request it. The pear is sliced, a few given to the Attuned as well. Still, he can’t help but to let his gaze drift up along Nate’s back, to the curls of hair around his neck, the wild abandon they take from where they settle – how much he wishes to hug his husband and bury his face in it.
He sighs, as quietly as he can – absolutely more in terms of himself and not in terms of Nate and the admission. That little casual knowledge he brings up is attentive and true, and Sunjata finds himself nodding even if Nate can’t see it. “You’re right.” He admits softly. When he got to that point, he typically shifted into his panther shift, went on a hunt for a ramphire, for something of substance that he couldn’t fuck up in a kitchen.
He eats a few of the slices of pears, a few more of the berries, before he’s finally answering Nate’s question. “A bit.” He actually doesn’t know what time he went to bed last night, but it felt too short, too little. And the exhaustion weighs on him. It’s that thought that has him standing, reaching for a mug and some of the coffee that Nate had poured, pouring himself a cup before he sits again and waits for it to cool. “I went down to the beach and got some sand, picked up some spare bags from the Slagveld. I planned on prepping the house today for the monsoons.” His tone is almost defeated, almost, but there’s enough oomph in it that makes it sound like he truly thought about what he was doing.
“Didn't get too much done yesterday before it got too cold last night, so I started scrubbing the smoke off the walls.” Anything to tire himself out enough to fall asleep alone.
He sighs, as quietly as he can – absolutely more in terms of himself and not in terms of Nate and the admission. That little casual knowledge he brings up is attentive and true, and Sunjata finds himself nodding even if Nate can’t see it. “You’re right.” He admits softly. When he got to that point, he typically shifted into his panther shift, went on a hunt for a ramphire, for something of substance that he couldn’t fuck up in a kitchen.
He eats a few of the slices of pears, a few more of the berries, before he’s finally answering Nate’s question. “A bit.” He actually doesn’t know what time he went to bed last night, but it felt too short, too little. And the exhaustion weighs on him. It’s that thought that has him standing, reaching for a mug and some of the coffee that Nate had poured, pouring himself a cup before he sits again and waits for it to cool. “I went down to the beach and got some sand, picked up some spare bags from the Slagveld. I planned on prepping the house today for the monsoons.” His tone is almost defeated, almost, but there’s enough oomph in it that makes it sound like he truly thought about what he was doing.
“Didn't get too much done yesterday before it got too cold last night, so I started scrubbing the smoke off the walls.” Anything to tire himself out enough to fall asleep alone.
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.
