They had both volunteered to watch the camp, only one had actually managed to keep their eyes open .. and it wasn’t Zevran. The only visible part of him was his eyes and brows, all else bundled in clothing and blanket. Antivans don’t do well in the cold, not all the time he would say. Or he had been saying. Before he fell asleep on Feyns shoulder, obviously.
To their credit they had held out. It was creeping up on Zevs second day awake, so the fact he lasted this long was .. formidable. Regardless: this bundle of elf and cloth rested up against the Inquisitor like it was natural to do so. They’d slumped against him a few minutes ago, and now there they snooze.
The birds in the tree that the two lean against start to stir. Distantly, the world is waking up -- and Zevran will too, surely soon, and he’ll undoubtedly be mortified. Never mention it again, if he can help it. But for now he is peaceful, and above his sleeping head, the birds begin their morning song.
@daxassan said: ❉ for one muse to nap against the other
