[ Zevran says nothing, too busy branding this in his memory as though he'd never have it again. He might, of course, it wasn't forever. It was until there was somewhere warm and proper that the Wardens might use to sleep and live in, but he would not stay in a tent with Alistair again. Perhaps that made him soft. But he had a bed, now. A room. Somewhere of his own that he shared as he willed and only as he willed.
And now half of that was being taken away.
He buries his face in Alistair's chest, mumbling in inarticulate Antivan. Nonsense complaints about the world. ]
Only until you have a proper room with heat and a proper bed. Then? I am moving down with you.
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Date: 2016-03-16 01:59 am (UTC)And now half of that was being taken away.
He buries his face in Alistair's chest, mumbling in inarticulate Antivan. Nonsense complaints about the world. ]
Only until you have a proper room with heat and a proper bed. Then? I am moving down with you.