xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred grunts, his eyes fluttering open after a few seconds and he smiles. “Good morning” he mutters, moving into a sitting position “you didn’t have to.”
They wouldn’t starve; there is cheese and bread and apples, but she doesn’t bother to argue. It’s not worth it, so she just tucks the sword by her side, nods, and repeats, “Be careful.”
”Always am,” he calls, disappearing off to the woods and returning around twenty minutes later with pheasant in his hand. “Told you so.”
Summer has to hide a smile behind the blanket. “You did indeed. I am rightly rebuked. I will never again question your prowess, brave sir knight.” She takes the bird from him and efficiently plucks it, burying the offal. With a considering glance at him, then, she holds it up by the legs and creates a ring of fire around it, reckoning that to be a quicker method than spitting it.