[He wakes up, and the fire's still going. Good. He breathes out through his nose, a slow, ponderous exhalation, and sits up, combing sand from his hair. He wants a smoke, now more than fucking ever, though a cup of coffee would do in a pinch. A shame he's going to have to make do without either.]
[Things prowling about in his dreams never did bode well. This is, in all likelihood, gonna suck down the road.]
[Lucky him.]
[He shouldn't be surprised to discover he isn't the only one awake. Insomnia's a hell of a beast, after all. But the tension claws at his shoulders regardless - an old instinct, picked up from the nights when he would open his eyes and discover that he wasn't quite alone in the room.]
backdated to after august storytelling so like 8/20
[Things prowling about in his dreams never did bode well. This is, in all likelihood, gonna suck down the road.]
[Lucky him.]
[He shouldn't be surprised to discover he isn't the only one awake. Insomnia's a hell of a beast, after all. But the tension claws at his shoulders regardless - an old instinct, picked up from the nights when he would open his eyes and discover that he wasn't quite alone in the room.]
...hey.