An ode to the fatherland
"I will leave you to your devices then?" Briar said, smiled, and walked away behind the closed door.
The room was warmer than outside, and Chanenath found that the hearth was burning, giving out a subtle warmth and lush light. "Took you long enough," Dalyor said, bread and cheese in hand.
There were three beds in that room, and a table was kept in between the two near the window. One was certainly larger than the other two, and Chaenath guessed that was where Thraos slept.
"Isn't it pretty early for a fire?" she said glancing through the room.
"I would say it's rather late," Thraos was closest to the fire. He held his green scaly hands over the fire, while his body was covered with a thick grey cloak.
"Don't mind him," Tamara was on a chair close to the window. "Come and sit here," she tapped a chair by her side.