Just because. Comments, corrections and criticism welcome. Outside the inn, Hadrian wordlessly offered the cloak hanging over his arm to Arden. She muttered protests through teeth clenched against the cold. He ignored them and swung the cloak gently over her shoulders, somehow managing not to touch her as he did so. She was transported, inevitably, back to the first night on Andulus. He had stood...
Neantóg rolled over, and groaned. Sleeping on the kitchen floor with Ravenfire, Maya and Ilsa hadn't been the great idea she'd thought it was three hours before. Around the small room lay the empty bottles from the night before, and plates with the remnants of chilli. "Never. Drinking. Again." muttered Neantóg, curling up in the blankets again and falling back asleep.
