into the woods

[spelleton]

There are stories told about who lives there, in the darkness of the woods that surround Subcon's various kingdoms, where even a brave knight would fear to tread. The desperate, the ghost-touched, the people who live on the edges.

And those who embrace that border between night and day, those who live and breathe magic; the witches. Those who offer strange magic and stranger things, but always for a price.

That's what everyone says, anyway. There must be some truth to it, surely?

Comments

[subconmodo]

Avery can't help but grin, nudging the wardrobe shut and settling down on the bed once more. "Heh. Guess if I'm going to be laid-up in bed, I might as well have a reason for it, huh?"

Not that recovery wasn't a good reason, but how could it possibly compare to committing the dreadful sin of disturbing a baby griffin?

He scratches where feather meets fur, and little by little his eyelids grow heavy again.

[spelleton]

The griffin settles down almost immediately, tucking its legs under itself, a tangible weight on his chest. It begins to purr contentedly, apparently pleased with its new resting place.

Not long after that, Ekkehardt arrives back with mask in hand, and glances into the room to check on his patient's condition.

[subconmodo]

There's nothing, not even an acknowledgement, Avery sleeping peacefully with one hand resting on the baby griffon.

[spelleton]

It's good to see he's sleeping peacefully, at least. Ekkehardt doesn't see any need to wake him up; he withdraws, his smile faint, and closes the door.