|Sagramore (petitmorte) wrote,|
@ 2009-10-13 10:08:00
With October comes weather that Sagramore actually gives his blessing to, the cold fierce winds that wander down from the Northern parts of Britain, and the freezing rain that accompanies them. He spends the day out in the stables attending to his fat mare, who is less enthusiastic, and gets back to his room soaked and shivering.
Gwytha helps him out of his wet clothes and for a while he stays safely ensconced in bed with her, which does even better for his state of mind. After that it's back to his own room for hot mead and the usual daily care he lavishes on his father's sword, ritual-like.
By this time he's fairly humming with a kind of frantic energy. He moves too quickly but doesn't feel it, and his body is burning to touch.