#and delayed

It wasn’t right– she knew that.

But the days had been long, her feet ached, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt safe enough to rest her eyes without fear of waking to some masked assassin or inebriated bookah. Their campsite wasn’t terribly comfortable to begin with, chilled by the open Ascalonian night she’d chosen over the consequences of Rata Sum. Fortunately, the cozy charr-sized blanket fit them twice over, and provided some refuge from both the cold and a haunted past.

Brainstorm raised a supra optic ridge at the speedster. Blurr was sitting at a separate worktable than him, not leaning back in his chair for once. Oberyn was curled up with Wallcrawler, not far from them.

With some well-needed downtime, Salome had occupied herself with finishing one of her cross-stitch patterns she'd been working on for the past few months. With only a few letters left, she was excited to be nearing completion so that she could move onto another project. Picking a frame would be vital as well, because this piece was a gift.

It was quiet, as she preferred it, and it was then that she heard the rapping at her door. Confused at who it could be at this sort of hour, she hesitated on answering. Whoever it was did not knock again, but she heard them place something on the steps.