#i-uh-

[maru-x-idrew]

[visionhcld]

          𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖙  —  the air is thick with it, the breeze warm against his skin.  he can feel it clinging to him, sweat beading at his brows, at his neck, even in the cloudless night, its cooler air;  the salt lingers in his hair.  but, it’s...  nice, a moment alone to simply breathe without feeling the weight of everything.  and even when he senses he’s no longer by himself, he’s hardly put out by the fact.  no, he’s glad of her presence, glad she’s somehow found her way back to them, to him most of all.  “ hello, witchling. ”  he greets her, a hint of laughter in his voice as he turns to face her, hair shifting in the wind.  “ do they have you standing watch now? ”

@khrysophos!