bouchonne: (side-eye)
Byerly Vlad Rutyer ([personal profile] bouchonne) wrote 2021-06-08 01:36 am (UTC)

But of course. Even a scoundrel must answer the desperate cry of a damsel in distress.

[ There's still confusion on his brow, a quizzical set to his mouth. But he doesn't ask. Asking, he has no doubt, will earn him a profane rebuff and a great many unkind words about his character, parentage, appearance, et cetera, and it's been a long day that's going to turn into a long night. ]

Do you wish to use the bed? My chambers are through there.

[ Whiskey - the hound sleeping, as is her wont in hot weather, on her back, back legs splayed, forepaws sticking straight up, like a furry dead cockroach - stirs at the scent of other-dog in the room. She flops over onto her side, and blinks at Hardie, too powerfully sleepy to go to him but clearly wanting him to come to her. ]

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