Re: log: the woods - wren/adrian
He wasn't so good at flattening his emotions down since Misha had done him the courtesy of smashing his two selves together. Compartmentalizing had once been very easy for him. These days, all the compartments had been overturned and dumped into the same uneasy place. When he was worried, it tended to show. Same when he was pissed off, which was probably for the better.
He was worried about Wren, but he really was trying not to make that too plain. He seemed so frail, but if he was as fragile as he looked, how was he surviving sleeping rough? It was summer, at least, and Repose was a pretty sleepy place. It was a lot safer than sleeping outside in the Capital would be, but that didn't make it okay.
"Oh yeah?" he asked. It seemed important to keep things very casual. He opened his hand again, moving the bits of grass around with a finger. "You know, I ate earlier," he said. "But you were so nice to offer, I didn't want to refuse. I live in Repose." He held himself with easy confidence these days, but the worry made his shoulders tense into a keen, straight line. He was angular and pale from years of work in laboratories. As he turned up his hand, he showed layers of scar tissue over the knuckles - boxer's splits, old ones, healed and healed again.
"Do you like sleeping out here?" he asked. "I know somebody in town with a spare room, if you're interested."