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Laura Moon (spitandviolets) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, moving quickly to action. Getting up, she grabbed the denim jacket that she had found off of her own back and tossed it onto the fire. She began stomping and, within a few moments, the fire was out. Her jacket, however, had suffered major damage; it was, in fact, barely a jacket at all after that. It was little more than a charred mass.

The light that remained in the shop highlighted how cold it was outside. It was dim and frigid, and it made long shadows. Laura could see as plain as day, but L, she knew, would have trouble in the dark. Fortunately, they had been living there for quite a goodly chunk of time. She assume that, at this point, he knew where most everything in the shop was. She was glad for that; had they ended up someplace unexpected in their haste, it could have been messy.

"I'm sorry," she began after a long and awkward silence. That was all that she could say. Her voice was caught somewhere back in her throat. "I wasn't thinking. I forgot that our windows aren't open and that, well, you breathe." Hanging her head, she wrung her hands nervously. Then, she looked up at him, an undead and mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "We should be thankful for small favors, though, shouldn't we? The windows aren't open; at least the cold and the snow aren't getting in that way. You might freeze, but it won't be from that."

Seating herself once more, she looked over at him. Her eyes studied his outfit. "You're not dressed warmly enough. I should have thought about it more when it started snowing. I don't know what I'm going to do, though. I was counting on the fire. Do we have any blankets?" She looked over towards the makeshift bed. There was an old and tired blanket there, and it would do. "How on earth are we going to keep you warm?"