[ He moves with such an energy that even those with their backs toward him can feel coming from a distance. Most everyone else is tired, or afraid, or hurting, or some combination of all three; perhaps it's not so strange, then, that people move out of his way as he strides with Lexie in arms around the edge of the camp, navigating them around various obstacles, tables, and people until he reaches a series of empty tents. The blanket has remained throughout, tucked into his hold around her and held up through sheer force of will.
She can probably feel the way his heart rate has quickened, the way his skin warms where her breath lies against it.
One tent is picked at random, or maybe because it is already partially open; it smells of someone's cold, terrified sweat but the scent is hours old and half-aired out already. There's a bedroll on either side raised slightly off the ground and with a gesture from where his hands are wrapped around to Lexie's back, one of them slides across the stones to the other with a soft scraping.
This is barely a bed. This is barely a tent, by his measurements, and his breath stutters out as Loki steps forward, sinking to his knees. She could move but a little bit, and she'd be on the edge of the bedroll.
He pulls back enough to look at her face, remaining on his knees. Turns his head back to the tent's opening, gestures so that it seals itself. Never did he think he'd miss some invention as simple as the Midgardian zipper, but it's done and easily enough; his other hand has moved from where it was wrapped around her back to rest at her hip.
Loki refocuses his attention on the woman in front of him. ]
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[ He moves with such an energy that even those with their backs toward him can feel coming from a distance. Most everyone else is tired, or afraid, or hurting, or some combination of all three; perhaps it's not so strange, then, that people move out of his way as he strides with Lexie in arms around the edge of the camp, navigating them around various obstacles, tables, and people until he reaches a series of empty tents. The blanket has remained throughout, tucked into his hold around her and held up through sheer force of will.
She can probably feel the way his heart rate has quickened, the way his skin warms where her breath lies against it.
One tent is picked at random, or maybe because it is already partially open; it smells of someone's cold, terrified sweat but the scent is hours old and half-aired out already. There's a bedroll on either side raised slightly off the ground and with a gesture from where his hands are wrapped around to Lexie's back, one of them slides across the stones to the other with a soft scraping.
This is barely a bed. This is barely a tent, by his measurements, and his breath stutters out as Loki steps forward, sinking to his knees. She could move but a little bit, and she'd be on the edge of the bedroll.
He pulls back enough to look at her face, remaining on his knees. Turns his head back to the tent's opening, gestures so that it seals itself. Never did he think he'd miss some invention as simple as the Midgardian zipper, but it's done and easily enough; his other hand has moved from where it was wrapped around her back to rest at her hip.
Loki refocuses his attention on the woman in front of him. ]