♚
( send me a ♚ and u’ll get some shit prompt about ur muse falling asleep on mine idk i forgot what the original said )
❝ ⋮° Merrill wasn’t a hardy girl by any stretch of the imagination or standards, and Hawke, though certainly no Aveline was, and so when her misfit leader fall atop her, already snoring softly from sleep, Merrill could only yelp in surprise before her entire form toppled over.
Slim arms might have flailed about, had her entire right side not been covered with firm flesh and soft fur while her entire left pressed uncomfortably against the dirt floor.
A flushed Merrill lay between both unmoving objects, the scrunching and unscrunching of toes on half bare feet the only inclination she was still alive in there. Head shaking profusely, spitting some dirt from her mouth, Merril parted her lips, ready to quite loudly tell Hawke of her discomfort before a hand promptly placed itself firmly over her face, and it took more than a few seconds for the elven mage to realize whom it belonged to.
Hawke, even in her sleep, wanted Merrill to shut up.