@twicereliant
Temeraire has, more or less, come to terms with the fact that Laurence is not here, and that Temeraire is, and that Temeraire will be, for the foreseeable future. He doesn’t, of course, like it one bit.. but he’s come to accept it. And he’s found some people that could make a passable crew, people he’s fond of. Jaina. Eight. Ogata. Perhaps not 82 White Chain Born In Emptiness Returns To Subdue Evil, but that’s only because she’s very heavy, and he’s not at his full size. If he were larger, he thinks, he might like to have her on his crew after all.
Anyways. He’s come to terms with it. He’s managed to convince some very pleasant bears to craft bracelets on which he can wear his train pass and holophone, so that he no longer needs to risk destroying them every time he wants to use them. He’s hollowed out quite a comfortable pit amongst the fallen leaves and undergrowth and debris of the forest of Tranquility, where he can sleep and remain warm and comfortable, for the most part.
He’s reluctantly made a home, here, and he’s fallen into a sort of... a sort of complacency about it.
That doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t still skip a beat every now and again when he sees someone walking by who looks like Laurence. Perhaps sun-bleached hair tied messily back- that’s not that uncommon. Perhaps a bottle green coat- more unusual, but he’s seen a few. Perhaps that particular bearing, that of a navy man turned aviator-
Wait.
Temeraire’s head lifts from where it’s been cushioned on his forelegs for most of the night, pupils widening and rounding as he tries to look closer at the man walking past without moving. He is very comfortable, after all, and has been all night. But... his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, and then he shoots to his feet, shedding leaves like a tree himself, resonant voice tremulous as he raises it, disbelieving, hopeful-
“Laurence?”
