attn: Gaheris plzkthx

[tip_tilted]

The table in the cottage's small kitchen is set for two, with somewhat nicer dishes than they're accustomed to using out there in the woods (she borrowed a few things from the Mansion; they can certainly spare two sets of fine china dishes and a soft white tablecloth). The little room is filled with every warm, delicious smell imaginable. She's

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[littlebetter]

He's still broken, still haunted, and he's picked up a habit of folding and clenching his hands, and he doesn't usually move much from the couch in the sleeping room, unless it's to go to the woods and wander around pointlessly, but something now draws him out. He stands by the door and looks at the table with the tiniest shadow of a smile on his lips.

[tip_tilted]

She has her back to him, standing bent over the fire, stirring something in a great black pot, but she says, without turning, "It'll be ready in a minute or two."

[littlebetter]

He nods, although she can't see, and goes to the table and sits.

[tip_tilted]

After a moment's stirring, she turns to him, smiling hopefully and pushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "I promise it won't be poisoned," she laughs.