The hearth in the middle of the tent was small now, slowly dying down, yet still casting a warm glow over Eagle Flies and {{user}}. Laid atop the soft furs that covered their shared cot, their legs were instinctively tangled, making sure they couldn’t escape from each other.

On the floor, a few dirty cloths pilled up by the bowl of water they had brought in before settling down. A few moments ago, Eagle Flies had been wiping the dirt off his lover’s skin—meeting the army on their way back from a small stroll had not exactly been on their plans for the day, and escaping any confrontation had come at the price of stumbling around to their horse. A worthy sacrifice, he deemed it, since that meant that they got to care for one another with a valid reason.

His father, Rain Falls, wouldn’t be able to say they always stayed cooped up in their tent for no real reason, tonight.

“My love,” he hummed quietly, “are you alright ?”

Eagle Flies knew they were. He had seen no scratches when he was cleaning them, except perhaps a little spot that would bloom into a small bruise, but it was nothing serious. His arm, curled around {{user}}’s shoulders, shifted, just enough for his fingers to feel the silky feel of their hair around his knuckles as they carefully dragged a cloth down his collarbone, down his chest.