aspidites

"Uuuugh, I can't believe how many of us on the staff they've roped into guarding the tower this year. No idea what crawled up their butts about trespassing lately." His own shift had been short, but it had still meant standing out in the cold when he could've been anywhere else. He rubs his palms against his forearms to urge along the warmth slowly seeping back in.

After all, when she looks up, she just sees people like the man Python nods to, who earns nothing more than an unimpressed grimace from her.

"Or maybe they are just sensitive about their precious Tower seeing as it is the first year it is back in action, so to speak." It is hardly a concern for her, but she can understand why they might not be eager to have little lords and ladies under their guardianship slipping off to do the unthinkable. What would their parents say?

He takes one of the honey glazed buns and tears a piece of it from the rest. It leaves both of his hands sticky, but that's a future Python problem. Current Python is busy savoring the pleasant tang of dried berries.

Movement at the corner of his vision draws his attention—a hunched figure shuffling along across the road. Another random drunk, Python thinks, until he opens his eyes further for a clearer look. A familiar shade of brick red, recognizable even in the low torchlight, changes his view. He’s not looking at any random man, and the guy isn’t likely to be drunk. (If he is, Python will have some words about drinking without him.)

“Oi, Lukas!”

No response. Python sighs and peels himself from his post. This isn’t the first time he’s witnessed his comrade’s sleepwalking habit, but it’s been a while since it’s had to be addressed somewhere unfamiliar. He steps out to intercept, hand outstretched to guide his friend by the shoulder.

“Alright Luke, let’s get you back—“

His palm squishes strangely at the contact, wet and sticky. He recoils.

“Luke- Lukas!”

He’s less gentle this time, grasping at Lukas’s arm to tug him out of the street. A bit closer to the light, the wet smear the action leaves behind shines red and slick. With the blood smudged all across Lukas’s skin and clothes, Python can’t quickly spot any injuries to blame.

“What in Mila’s name did you get yourself into?” He hisses lowly. His hands, already dirtied, slide across Lukas’s forearms in an attempt to stir him further. “Hey, you with me?”

(Though this time, Forsyth is in the middle. And he cannot say he is complaining. Except the normal amount.)

"I'm glad the spell helped, Lukas. While the purpose was not showing off"--a half-hearted elbow shove at Python--"I am proud of what I have learned in my time with the knights here." The human body's ingenuity always impresses Forsyth. Just with the three of them, their body heat wards off the primal elements, allowing for relative comfort. Forsyth rests his head on Python's shoulder, a fond smile on his lips as he regards Lukas from the corner of his eye. "That pride does extend to Python, too. Somehow, between the procrastination and naps, he's grown as an archer and professor."

Fatigue has a way of setting in when one feels safe, the tension drained from their body replaced by a near-insurmountable heaviness. Still, Forsyth does his best to keep his eyes open. He has a duty, after all.

"I suppose...though we should sleep in shifts, being this vulnerable." He'd never forgive himself if something happened to his dearest friends due to his own ineptitude. Though, they are in a safe place, and he is so very comfortable. Traitorous thoughts eat at his alertness, and sleep looms, its patience running thin. "If need be, I can..."

He can take the first shift was his intent, but a yawn cuts through his statement, and even Forsyth can realize how comical and impractical his proposition could be. He shifts, snuggling in closer. It's only strategic for him to take his rest now.

“Must be bad if you’re requesting to rest for once.” His fingers drift over to brush his knuckles against Forsyth’s temple and move some of his hair aside, then drop to the safety and warmth of the shared blanket. His head follows suit, dropping down until his friend is tucked beneath his chin. He gives Lukas a lazy smile. Exhaustion hollows out the space beneath Python's eyes, but that's not unusual for him.

"Oh, nah, I think she does," Lex answered perhaps a bit too candidly, waving a hand as though to dismiss the notion. "Don't really remember, though. She seems the sort who'd get jealous, and I wouldn't wanna do that to her, don't get me wrong! I just didn't know I was married is all. I only found out after I got here."

That... probably sounded quite strange out of context, didn't it? Well, the context wasn't really going to help it be any less strange. The situation was quite bizarre, and Lex couldn't pretend he understood it himself. The mechanics weren't for someone like him to understand anyway. He was no scholar. He was a doer, not a studier. Was that a thing? It sounded like a thing.

"So, uh, I've got a giant gap in my memory. Apparently I've had a wife for, like, twenty years or something? Can't remember any of it. No idea what happened. Feel awful 'bout the whole thing, don't get me wrong. She's a great lady. She deserves a husband who can love her back as much as she loves him. I don't actually know if I can be that man, not right now at least. I can try, though, and that's what I oughta do."

What else can he say to something like that? Python’s seen plenty of outlandish things, especially in this country, but well, there’s some math here that is struggling to resolve itself here. No matter how many times he looks up and down Lex’s face, it’s difficult to see him as anything past his twenties.

Most of the folk he’s met that are older than they look have some kind of tell for their inhuman status—wings and animal ears and such, unless they’re dragons...but it’s nearly as difficult to imagine that this guy as a semi-immortal god, honestly.

Unable to glean any more just by looking, he decides to glance away. He watches both sides of the little spat march down the pathway until they disappear behind a hedge.

“Guess I can agree that it’s smart to not pile more stress on your girl if you’ve got all of that going on.”

For a few moments, he just listens in to the echoing sound of the voices, still speaking to each other in clipped tones. It’s too difficult to make out many of the words, especially with the way they bounce off of the stone walls of the buildings. His eyes slide back over to Lex.