I'm fine, he just -- [ Ephemera waves his hand vaguely. Pell patched him up and then he had other shit to do. He hums to himself, then pulls Drake into him. He's stripped down to his waist and sore and Drake looks like he's been through nine rounds of shit, but Ephemera doesn't care. Wet, bloody, whatever. It feels good just be close. The gods can't fuck this up. Everything else is fair game but not them. ] Hey.
[ Fuck, it's good to hold him. Ephemera bumps their foreheads together gently. ]
no subject
[ Fuck, it's good to hold him. Ephemera bumps their foreheads together gently. ]
Think I blinked home for bit. It sucked.