Brotherly bonding. Or something like that.

[ziemia]

[Do you want to build a pillow fort?]

[ The war in the Grasslands may have ended, but there was never a shortage of issues to address. In addition to the usual, he had to keep to his word and attempt to help Le Buque, and that was becoming an uphill battle. It didn't leave him much free time, but maybe he shouldn't complain about that.

It seemed he would have the evening to himself, though, provided no-one came to him. With that thought in mind, he entered what was his sitting room, expecting to make himself comfortable and let himself unwind, but that plan didn't last long after opening the door.

Books were on the floor, drawers were open, seat cushions were mixed and matched everywhere. It had been ransacked without anyone even noticing a break-in.

...For good reason, he soon realized, as his eyes finally fell on the what looked like a young boy ducking under some of the overturned pillows. At worse, he was just a diversion or a poor choice of spy, at best...Sasarai wasn't really sure. But he would take this one step at a time. Coming forward, he was soon crouching a short distance away. ]

I hope you know I can still see you there.

Comments

[buried_sky]

[He was lost. The room was strange--so much brighter than his cell, so much warmer and softer, it was actually kind of overwhelming. He couldn't help exploring the place, pulling open drawers to see what was inside, piling up the cushions for the softest seat he'd ever sat on...stacking books beneath the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the world outside. (Sadly a tall enough pile turned out to be too tall for him to climb.)

You couldn't really blame him for hiding when that door opened, for not wanting to leave such a nice room, taking comfort in the safety of the comfy cushions and hoping so very hard the stranger didn't notice he'd accidentally broken a teaset when trying to make it fly with his magic. And so he froze when that voice called him out, unwilling to leave his not-so-safe-after-all cushiony hideout.

At least, not just yet.]