[The transition is smooth, rather than sudden, despite the speed of it, each step toward the fire another iteration, from a nervous creep to a glide, adjusting to match his poise. It's a matter of respect, not deception; of matching decorum in kind. Her dress has gone dark grey and dapple-yellow, stone and firelight, like she is a translucent slip of smoke against the walls. She sits, tucks her legs and smoothes her skirt, lays the pickaxe neatly aside before accepting his gift.]
Thank you.
Have you been here this whole time?
[For days; forever. She wonders how long it will be before she forgets she was ever anywhere else.]
no subject
Thank you.
Have you been here this whole time?
[For days; forever. She wonders how long it will be before she forgets she was ever anywhere else.]