"What, am I on marital duty now?!"
The tiefling's voice bounced off of the marble walls, a few patrons towards the back lifting their heads at the offending noise. The world outside and the city spread out before them were decorated in favor of an embracing of love and union, of a tradition as old as the nation itself--however, the bright colors and festivities felt dull in the light of their recent assignment.
But the cleric had made his order--bedrest, mandatory healing potions every evening, and no, emphasis on no, active duty. That meant no defense, no pursuit, no field-work, no hunting--nothing but diplomacy and good-natured guard-ship. Anakin felt sick to his stomach like he wasn't just now getting his first breath of fresh air in weeks.
But the tiefling flung his head back, both a confirmation and accusation, to make sure his companion was still hot on his heels.
"You can't possibly be excited. Not even you. What are we going to do all day?"
@thxnegotiator
