open enough--post of moping

[le_desirous]

Sagramore is having a quiet day. He had a seizure in the morning, and now, by afternoon, he is thoroughly wrapped up in sweaters and scarf, with a cup of hot coffee, sitting on a spare bale of hay in the stables. Kutya's head is on his foot, and she's not even begging for snuggles--it's a low kind of day, quiet is the way to be

Comments

[floweredknight]

Florence has been in and out lately -- the lure of puppies is hard to resist -- and he pauses as he rounds the corner. "Good day, sir."

[le_desirous]

Sagramore glances up, and smiles at him. "Good afternoon. Florence, yes?"

[floweredknight]

He smiles back a little shyly. "Ay, sir."

[le_desirous]

"I've always thought very highly of your father. Do you have a dog here?" with a little nod at his foot, where Kutya is watching them.

[hunt_theheart]

The typist has to wonder what will happen when the coffee runs out. But meanwhile, Curio will enter and catch sight of Sagramore, coming over to share his bale of hay and lean upon his shoulder. "Thou seemest overcome by cares, good sir," he offers, by way of greeting.

[le_desirous]

He will die, that's what.

He's also feeling too icky to bother lying about it. "I was ill; I'm ill."

[hunt_theheart]

Kissing his ear, "Then thou shouldst be abed, to rest thyself."

[le_desirous]

"No, no, I've done that already. It's tiresome." He snuggles very discreetly against Curio.

[lesser_son]

And, uh. Melou, being a remarkably faily human being, advances on him here. He has his slightly rusted sword in his hand, and a resolute expression he seldom wears, and he has forgotten to contact his brother ahead of time for this mission so he will probably get hurt.

"Bradwyr," in a cool voice he's been practising for months, and never expected he'd be able to pull off. "Traitor. Stand thou up now and listen to me."

[le_desirous]

Sagramore looks up at him, sighs, and leans back against the wall of the stall his hay bale is in front of. "Gyerek, leave it be."

[lesser_son]

"Stand."

[le_desirous]

"Boy," wearily, but he does get to his feet.