A mug of Ale. Oh, it's stale? // Campfire and Singing

[GAWAIN]

we must away, ere break of day

The fire crackled with a calming warmth, though singeing his fur slightly as he shoved another log into the circle. His lips curled into a smirk as he imagined the Medicine Reaper, that beauty of a blue tiger, Seven, scolding him. Her blind eyes narrowing in anger as he sticks another log into the fire, playing dangerously close to the flame. To hell with her, for the time being. To prepare for one's death is something you should not be tampering with. But, to humor this imaginary scenario, he stepped back and sat down near the fire.

It felt like so long ago, when his knights would host bonfires, sing and eat and drink. Sing the songs of victories. And a hollow sigh left him. For the first time, he would sing alone. Without anyone to layer the tones with.

"Oh, misty eye of the mountain below.
Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls.
And should the sky be filled with,
Fire and smoke,
Keep watching over Haldin's sons,"

and as he continued, it as almost as if he was consoling himself. The grief of being unable to find the others weighing on him. Was he not the Captain of the Knights? If he was, he would have found them by now.

#psy.

[Zjarr]

[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]"Y'got some nice pipes there, friend."

He was summoned to the crackling of flames and the sound of a solitary, singing voice, the husky's curious head poking out from his cottage's door before pushing it open, fully revealing the rest of his body. He gently shut the door behind him in case the children were resting, careful not to disturb their slumber if they were in fact fast asleep. Gingerly he made his way over to the growing flame, feeling the pleasant warmth as he approached it.

Zjarr wasn't sure he had ever met the black tiger before this very moment, but this would be a pleasant introduction. He found fires to be incredibly soothing and a perfect setting for stories, small talk, and general camaraderie. "Sorry, I don't mean to disturb ya. Jus' heard ya 'n' got curious. Don't think we ever met before. I'm Zjarr." With that the canine rested upon his haunches, eyeing the feline and the orange-yellow glow that fell upon him as a result of the flickering flames.

Would he sing some more? Pro'lly shouldn't have fuckin' interrupted him, in that case, the demon thought somewhat bitterly, and his maw twitched for a moment at the idea of disrupting this man's song for some out-of-the-blue introduction. From that moment on he had no more words for the other unless he was directly addressed by him or anyone else that would arrive to the fire — he just wanted to hear him, in all honesty.

[glow=#f24b00,2,300]cold cold cold[/glow] — ☼