|Sagramore (petitmorte) wrote,|
@ 2009-06-13 23:27:00
|Entry tags:||rp: mordred|
It's been a few casual days mostly spent with Maggie--he took her off riding into one of the small towns scattered around the outskirts of Camelot, and they wasted plenty of time and most of his money on a good inn and pleasant things; and all of his usual exuberant energy and good spirits are back. Maggie, too, seemed especially happy when he left her with her sheep, and he spent some time in the stable putting up his horse and playing with the dogs.
Even better, at least to his mind, is that the seizure managed to hold off until he got back, and now he's in his room quietly cleaning up after himself, using a handful of wet straw to clean the floor and then changing out of his soiled clothes.
He fetches the washbasin and scrubs himself off gingerly, crouching on the stone floor, wringing water over his body with a spare tunic wadded up, and shivering pleasantly under the cold of it.