[ During Harvest week, it's easier to sleep during the day. The greatest influx of demand she gets is at dusk and again just before dawn, when all but the grubbiest establishments let out. This time of morning, Old Town smells like the aftershock of all the revels, old tobacco smoke and vomit and blood. In the middle of this is Lunafreya, tucked against the far wall of her tent and curled up over a mat, finally allowing herself a moment's rest. Umbra sits by, standing watch, but it's with little need--few of those patients remaining would have the energy to bother her, and those who would, wouldn't dare.
Umbra is a good and loyal companion, but even he has his weakness--he smells the food long before it's there, attention diverted from his watch to stare longingly to the mouth of the alley. Luna stirs at his whining, lifting her head long enough to squint at him. ]
Is someone there, Umbra?
[ Umbra's tail wags, and she knows immediately who it is he's expecting. ]
DAMIAN
Umbra is a good and loyal companion, but even he has his weakness--he smells the food long before it's there, attention diverted from his watch to stare longingly to the mouth of the alley. Luna stirs at his whining, lifting her head long enough to squint at him. ]
Is someone there, Umbra?
[ Umbra's tail wags, and she knows immediately who it is he's expecting. ]