Lanisen has, as is becoming his habit, found a space in the late morning at one of the back tables with a book. He is reading silently and seems absorbed, except that he is rubbing his right shoulder absently with his thumb as he does so.
Chlamash enters quietly, a cup of tea in his hands and an book or two under his arm. He doesn’t look to be particularly well rested this morning however, of his attire however nothing seems to be out of place.
Continue reading overstepping & morning insomnia
A bat with an orange ruff’s wings make a soft whooshing sound as she flies through the garden. Her modified satchel is bulging, a red-and-white-checkered cloth peeking out of the top.
Lanisen makes his way down the path, aiming for the quieter part of the garden. He keeps to the side of the path, and he has a watchful uncertain look that suggests he isn’t sure he’s meant to be here. He ducks in surprise away from the Bat.
Continue reading bats before breakfast