🌝<-- this one.
The bead was warm from being caught up in a hug for the majority of the night, but it still lightly scratched away her dream and brought her consciousness to the attention of the squeaking, pursed lips from so close. The sound made wasn’t a proper kissing sound, of course, just an attempt, one wrought with soft, mischievous laughter. It was the repetitive, half giggling sound of a child who was awake far too early for the woman’s liking, but it opened her eyes all the same. The hardness of a beaded eye tapped against her brow again, and she instinctively both ducked and turned her head a bit.
“Mmmh, morning.”
It came out rough, sleepy, but the child was not to be deterred. “El says mo'ning with kisses.” The hushed whisper eased a soft curve to her lips. It was a recent event, to abandon one bed by herself to try to join in with her instead. Pen looked out to see the faintest of colors lightening the sky; it was way too early. A few fingers caught the edge of the furs covering her, lifting them to provide a space beside her in invitation that was quickly filled by the toddler and her plushie.
It was not a morning to chase her back to her bed, and she tucked them in. Small fingers reached up, curling around a lock of white that was desperately in need of a haircut. The habit of one signaled the habit of another, and Penthe very quietly began to sing a dwarven tune of a lost love that eased the pair into an easy sleep until morning had the time to properly wander over the horizon.
