Time drifted by in elusive measures during pieces of the storm. The gray skies darkened and brightened in patches, relentless in its snowfall and sharp winds. Far too dangerous to venture outside, the couple spent time occupying themselves in both productive and pleasurable ways. Every so often tempers flared, more so out of the tension of waiting out the storm, but more often then not they shared a laugh, a meal, a kiss and a bed. Part of the day (or evening) had been spent over pieces of parchment, rendering drawings of possible expansions to the cottage once the snow melted and temperatures rose. And, as she promised herself, she prepared a splendid meal of vegetable stew, fresh bread, and a platter of fruits. Unable to bear the thought of his ruining the day witn an endless bout of snoring, Tink put some talents to work and kept him awake by the most pleasing means. It exhausted the two of them, so much so that she fell asleep tangled in his arms, her cheek resting on his chest. Nestled under the crook of his arm, she felt the protective hold of his hand on her waist, and her palm rested on the top of his stomach. A tap on her shoulder roused her from the deep sleep, prying her from a dream which she'd never remember. Her eyes fluttered open, half-expecting to find Rikhard's grin and a mischievous stare. The only light was from the hearth, gold and flickering, it chased shadows against the walls and behind pieces of furniture. Just as she was about to return to the pillow of his chest, she heard Chester's low growl.
As the storm presented its trials, it also produced pleasure. As Rikhard took their disagreements in stride, he would be met with a hot meal soon enough...he wasn't complaining about his snoring treatments either. Tempers can flare in even the closest of relationships, and the fact the pair wasn't at each others throats (at least not dangerously so) was a good sign. It was an odd ordeal to say the least; Rikhard was not usually so cooped up. When not doing other things, a popular pastime of his during this enclosure seemed to be pacing...lots and lots of pacing. He had never thought about how wildly his mind can wander when he was left without activity until now. Thoughts of future endeavors flowed in and out of his consciousness, and he would sometimes simply watch as Tink sketched her plans for the cottage. Tink was certainly a large help during the storm; if not for her company, Rikhard would surely be driven mad by his wandering thoughts. After being sufficiently occupied, he was now thoroughly exhausted; with the inventor in his arms, he was content. In his light slumber, he was awoken by the sound of Chester as he growled. Rikhard brought his gaze over to the sound, instinctively pulling Tink closer as he did. "Chester. What are you growling at?" he was certain nothing could sneak in, not with the weather outside, and his tone hinted a slight bit of annoyance; surely it was a false alarm and the dog woke him for nothing.
"It has to be the wind," Tink reasoned, nestling back into the comfortable spot next to Rikhard. Her hand lowered away from his stomach and found the rumpled blanket that had been ignored for a good while. After all, they had worked up a heated frenzy and Tink's skin still glowed with a faint sheen of sweat. But that could potentially lead to a chill, something Tink felt creeping up along her calf. She brought the blanket far enough to cover her shoulder and Rikhard's chest. Aside from the occasional crackle of the hearth, all was silent inside the cottage. And that was when she noticed something else -- it was quiet outside as well. The wind lessened and there was no longer a constant rattle of the shutters into the panes of glass. Chester lurched up from his bedding by the hearth, his front legs stretched low as he peered at the middle of the cottage. A bristling of fur by his neck traveled midway down his back, and his teeth flashed in another warning growl. "Chester, shhh...." Just when she stopped Rikhard from snoring, the dog was now keeping her awake!
For a small moment, Rikhard inched closer toward Tink as they were covered by the blanket, hoping he could get comfortable again; that dream was quickly shattered by Chester's second growl. As quickly as he was covered, Rikhard made his way off the bed, sitting at its edge. "I'll see what he's going on about," he grumbled. Pants that were strewn about the floor were gathered and quickly slipped on, and he unsheathed the dagger Tink had gifted him for good measure; if there truly was something dangerous inside, he wished to be somewhat prepared. "If there's nothing over there, I'm using this on you!" As much of an exaggeration as that was, it was clear Rikhard was not at all pleased at being awoken by the dog; perhaps it was his turn to be a bit grumpy. Ambling over to Chester, a slightly weary Rikhard had a better view of the cottage; there was nothing notable in sight. He stared in bewilderment at the dog as he bore his teeth. What was he so fiercely trying to deter? Surveying the area again, he found nothing, only the eerie silence outside.
As soon as Rikhard untangled himself from the comfort of Tink's embrace, she groaned in disappointment. She could feel the chill climb up the bed and search for the newly abandoned space beside her under the blanket. Reaching up, she snagged one of the pillows still warm from Rikhard's body and cuddled against it. "There's nothing there," she muttered into the pillowcase. "He's probably going stir crazy in here." Like the two of them. Chester relaxed when Rikhard approached, his fur flattening into the sleek and elegant coat that his breed was known. The tall dog circled his master, stopping on his left side to continue staring at ... nothing. Tink's eyes closed momentarily, but a slow stroke against her forehead had her swatting at the air. Pieces of her hair fell in unruly curls by her forehead, tickling her skin as it fluttered in a spiderlike grace to the bridge of her nose. Assuming it was Rikhard, she did not yet open her eyes. Chester's gaze, at that same time, started to growl in the direction of the bed.
With an exasperated sigh, Rikhard brought a hand down to scratch Chester behind the ear; false alarms were better than none at all. Tink's words only seemed to confirm his belief that the dog was simply going stir crazy, and he began to make his way back toward the bed. He caught a glimpse of Tink swatting at the air, something which he found a bit odd, but dismissed fairly quickly. However, as Rikhard crossed the foot of the bed, he paused in his tracks; the air around him seemed cold, unnaturally so. Normally he would attribute it to the weather, but the chill creeping down his spine seemed much different. Chester's growl in that direction did nothing to relieve Rikhard's apprehension, and his brows furrowed in concern. "Tink, I...," he spoke in a hushed voice; he was not sure how to describe the uneasy feelings he experienced at that moment. The pause in his words was brought about as he seemed to witness strands of the inventor's hair sweeping across her brow, moved aside by an unseen hand. Hesitantly Rikhard remained at the foot of the bed, only having the presence of mind to clutch his dagger harder in the deafening silence; for that moment time seemed to pause.
( Scene played by Tink and Rikhard. )
As the storm presented its trials, it also produced pleasure. As Rikhard took their disagreements in stride, he would be met with a hot meal soon enough...he wasn't complaining about his snoring treatments either. Tempers can flare in even the closest of relationships, and the fact the pair wasn't at each others throats (at least not dangerously so) was a good sign. It was an odd ordeal to say the least; Rikhard was not usually so cooped up. When not doing other things, a popular pastime of his during this enclosure seemed to be pacing...lots and lots of pacing. He had never thought about how wildly his mind can wander when he was left without activity until now. Thoughts of future endeavors flowed in and out of his consciousness, and he would sometimes simply watch as Tink sketched her plans for the cottage. Tink was certainly a large help during the storm; if not for her company, Rikhard would surely be driven mad by his wandering thoughts. After being sufficiently occupied, he was now thoroughly exhausted; with the inventor in his arms, he was content. In his light slumber, he was awoken by the sound of Chester as he growled. Rikhard brought his gaze over to the sound, instinctively pulling Tink closer as he did. "Chester. What are you growling at?" he was certain nothing could sneak in, not with the weather outside, and his tone hinted a slight bit of annoyance; surely it was a false alarm and the dog woke him for nothing.
"It has to be the wind," Tink reasoned, nestling back into the comfortable spot next to Rikhard. Her hand lowered away from his stomach and found the rumpled blanket that had been ignored for a good while. After all, they had worked up a heated frenzy and Tink's skin still glowed with a faint sheen of sweat. But that could potentially lead to a chill, something Tink felt creeping up along her calf. She brought the blanket far enough to cover her shoulder and Rikhard's chest. Aside from the occasional crackle of the hearth, all was silent inside the cottage. And that was when she noticed something else -- it was quiet outside as well. The wind lessened and there was no longer a constant rattle of the shutters into the panes of glass. Chester lurched up from his bedding by the hearth, his front legs stretched low as he peered at the middle of the cottage. A bristling of fur by his neck traveled midway down his back, and his teeth flashed in another warning growl. "Chester, shhh...." Just when she stopped Rikhard from snoring, the dog was now keeping her awake!
For a small moment, Rikhard inched closer toward Tink as they were covered by the blanket, hoping he could get comfortable again; that dream was quickly shattered by Chester's second growl. As quickly as he was covered, Rikhard made his way off the bed, sitting at its edge. "I'll see what he's going on about," he grumbled. Pants that were strewn about the floor were gathered and quickly slipped on, and he unsheathed the dagger Tink had gifted him for good measure; if there truly was something dangerous inside, he wished to be somewhat prepared. "If there's nothing over there, I'm using this on you!" As much of an exaggeration as that was, it was clear Rikhard was not at all pleased at being awoken by the dog; perhaps it was his turn to be a bit grumpy. Ambling over to Chester, a slightly weary Rikhard had a better view of the cottage; there was nothing notable in sight. He stared in bewilderment at the dog as he bore his teeth. What was he so fiercely trying to deter? Surveying the area again, he found nothing, only the eerie silence outside.
As soon as Rikhard untangled himself from the comfort of Tink's embrace, she groaned in disappointment. She could feel the chill climb up the bed and search for the newly abandoned space beside her under the blanket. Reaching up, she snagged one of the pillows still warm from Rikhard's body and cuddled against it. "There's nothing there," she muttered into the pillowcase. "He's probably going stir crazy in here." Like the two of them. Chester relaxed when Rikhard approached, his fur flattening into the sleek and elegant coat that his breed was known. The tall dog circled his master, stopping on his left side to continue staring at ... nothing. Tink's eyes closed momentarily, but a slow stroke against her forehead had her swatting at the air. Pieces of her hair fell in unruly curls by her forehead, tickling her skin as it fluttered in a spiderlike grace to the bridge of her nose. Assuming it was Rikhard, she did not yet open her eyes. Chester's gaze, at that same time, started to growl in the direction of the bed.
With an exasperated sigh, Rikhard brought a hand down to scratch Chester behind the ear; false alarms were better than none at all. Tink's words only seemed to confirm his belief that the dog was simply going stir crazy, and he began to make his way back toward the bed. He caught a glimpse of Tink swatting at the air, something which he found a bit odd, but dismissed fairly quickly. However, as Rikhard crossed the foot of the bed, he paused in his tracks; the air around him seemed cold, unnaturally so. Normally he would attribute it to the weather, but the chill creeping down his spine seemed much different. Chester's growl in that direction did nothing to relieve Rikhard's apprehension, and his brows furrowed in concern. "Tink, I...," he spoke in a hushed voice; he was not sure how to describe the uneasy feelings he experienced at that moment. The pause in his words was brought about as he seemed to witness strands of the inventor's hair sweeping across her brow, moved aside by an unseen hand. Hesitantly Rikhard remained at the foot of the bed, only having the presence of mind to clutch his dagger harder in the deafening silence; for that moment time seemed to pause.
( Scene played by Tink and Rikhard. )