@rosellevan
Theios was thankful for the peaceful weather around camp because it meant that staying in his garden for too-many hours was perfectly fine. He’d wandered in at some point, restless and bothered and unable to sleep, and had sat down with his sketchbook. Somehow, between then and now, Theios thought he might’ve fallen asleep. As it was, he was just comfortable curled up near the dahlias he’d planted not too long ago. He had no intentions of moving, even when he heard footsteps, so he just tugged his sketchbook over his face. If he were honest, there were reasons for him being curled up in the garden, but Theios didn’t want to look too hard into those and was pretending all was well. Everything was fine, it was fine, he was fine.







