[Closed]
[Ashton was close to the beach, sitting in the grass. He was holding a round, bejeweled ball in his hand, occasionally flicking the object open and closed. His gaze was distant, unfocused, nostalgic. Once in a while he would open it, and his thumb would find the mechanism that brought the ornate device to life with flame, and then he would close the lid again. He was not wearing it, but it the long chain of it was wrapped around one wrist to keep it on him.
He let out a heavy sigh, feeling worn down, stretched out, and compressed all at once. Even the dragons were close to napping, having stretched out so they might rest their heads on the soft ground.]