the baffled king composing hallelujah
After acting as conduit for who knows how many people to dream-hop into Stormbreak, Ronin has been feeling a little dazed and sleepy to say the least. Remi has left for the Greatwood (something about catapaults) and Mateo was still snoring in bed when Ronin checked in on him, so the morning is his own to play with. Or rather, it's his own and their guest's to play with.
They had settled Maeve on the squashy couch in their living room, and at present the colourful scraps of sheet that count as curtains are drawn across the large windows, so the morning light from the plaza can't get through too much. Ronin pads into the room on bare feet, hiding a mighty yawn behind his hand. His dark hair is desperately ruffled from sleep, and the sweatpants he wears sit low on his hips. At least he's remembered to pull on a shirt, but it's left open as he shuffles towards the open-plan kitchenette to make some coffee.
He's doing his best not to wake their guest, but he needs something to help him function this morning.
They had settled Maeve on the squashy couch in their living room, and at present the colourful scraps of sheet that count as curtains are drawn across the large windows, so the morning light from the plaza can't get through too much. Ronin pads into the room on bare feet, hiding a mighty yawn behind his hand. His dark hair is desperately ruffled from sleep, and the sweatpants he wears sit low on his hips. At least he's remembered to pull on a shirt, but it's left open as he shuffles towards the open-plan kitchenette to make some coffee.
He's doing his best not to wake their guest, but he needs something to help him function this morning.
