[ There’s a peculiar flicker -- a facet behind his eyes in the lamplight, there and gone. Surprise, guilt, or paranoia. What does she see?
The dog, obviously.
Realization is as swift as a glance to the noodle dancing around Fitcher’s ankles, steeling out his nerve well before he’s in range to slide a hand under the coat to her hip, a bristly kiss at her jawline. Past the jut of the pipe. Thot snuffles like a nug where she’s picked up a rat’s trail. ]
Some nights ago, [ says Silas. ] I've missed having a lookout.
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Date: 2022-03-07 04:16 am (UTC)The dog, obviously.
Realization is as swift as a glance to the noodle dancing around Fitcher’s ankles, steeling out his nerve well before he’s in range to slide a hand under the coat to her hip, a bristly kiss at her jawline. Past the jut of the pipe. Thot snuffles like a nug where she’s picked up a rat’s trail. ]
Some nights ago, [ says Silas. ] I've missed having a lookout.