flow pattern

The Domestic Garden Witch: Gardening Without Plants!

So maybe you’re a college witch with limited space and money, limited to the one window in your dorm. Or, maybe you’re a witch without extensive backyard space who wants to start up a magical garden. Perhaps you’re a kitchen witch who wants the freshest herbs right at her fingertips.

For many witches, having a garden seems to be a bit of a no-brainer. After all, plants and magic go hand-in-hand. Plus, when thinking of a witch, it’s hard not to think of a cottage in the woods with a little vegetable garden out front. Unfortunately for the majority of us, our cottage in the woods is a tiny flat, and our garden out front is a windowsill with limited space.

This is when it comes time to embrace your craftiness and bring your garden indoors! Not only does it place your garden in a convenient location, it also allows you to freshen the air, recycle what would otherwise harm the earth, and embrace your witchy green thumb!

Sand and Meditation

Something that often does not cross an individual’s mind when they hear the word “garden” is the thought of a garden without plants, especially where witches are concerned. After all, witches are sometimes known for the sheer amount of herbs and plants they collect (hell, my boyfriend sometimes criticizes the quantity of herbs I have - not my practice, mind you, just the fact that I have over thirty varieties of herbs in large quantities in my witchy drawers). But gardens take all sorts of shapes and sizes, including that of the zen garden, Japanese rock garden, or meditation garden.

Unlike planted gardens, these are minimalist creations designed to help induce meditative thought and relaxation through the use of flowing patterns and stone placement which often are likened to mountains or islands rising up from the sea. They are generally designed as large features which are raked into different patterns each day, but are easily adaptable for the small amount of room our domestic garden witch might have!

Creating Your Garden

As with any indoor garden, perhaps the first thing to look into is the type of container in which you’d like to keep it. In this case, a dish that is wider than it is tall is recommended. Choose either rounded shapes or rectangular shaped dishes that are shallow yet deep enough to hold sand.

Fill this dish with sand - white is traditional, though colored sands can be found in local craft stores or dollar stores - until it is about half full. Select visually appealing stones and set them on the sand.

With a utensil, trace ripples into the sand - flowing lines reminiscent of water are traditional.

If you feel that you want a bit of plant life, small air plants are definitely helpful. Remember to design your garden based on simplicity. Use natural themes and variations in your design to provide an aesthetic that you find appealing.

Tools of the Rock Garden

Typically when you think of a desktop zen garden, you might envision one of the little kits that you can get as a novelty gift at Barnes and Noble. In these kits, there is of course a couple of little rakes - one for smoothing out the sand and one for providing the patterns.

We’re witches on a budget, though, so let’s take a different approach - one similar to what’s pictured above. While it is completely reasonable to use a fork or a pen to make the patterns, you can take bamboo skewers or chopsticks and turn them into rakes using wire. Using these, you can smooth out the sand and rake patterns into it each day or as often as the whim takes you.

How Can I Witch This?

Unlike all of the gardens I’ve written about thus far, this is a garden whose only maintenance depends upon what you need from a meditative standpoint. Its design is not only decorative, but spiritually functional. If you’re a witch who is still fairly closeted and can’t have an altar, gardens such as these make for excellent substitutions, as they can form a sort of sacred space in which you can meditate and focus your intent.

If you’re a crystal witch, these sand gardens are a dream come true! Instead of placing stones, arrange your grids in the sand and use the rake or skewer to draw patterns in the sand to help focus the energy of the stones in your grid!

Draw sigils in the sand based on your intent and either wipe them away with the rake, or incorporate those sigils into the design of the ripples!

Sands come in various colors and grades. Play around with options for your sand! For cleansing, use a fine black sand. For empowerment, use a fiery orange or red. For healing, use white or light blue! The possibilities are near endless!

Of course, I can’t leave out my fellow kitchen witches! Salt is a key feature of the kitchen witch’s lifestyle. So much so, in fact, that in some circles it is believed that it is bad luck to run out of salt. For this reason, you can replace the sand with salt! This has a couple of benefits: first, it’s inexpensive. Second, it acts as a constant cleanser - much like a quartz cluster or a rod of selenite. When the salt has become to crusty to rake into appealing patterns, it has done its work! Dispose of the old salt and replace it with a new batch! (Do not pour the salt outside! This is harmful to the environment! Instead, find a safer way to dispose of the salt - I usually use the salt to clean out my mortar and pestle, then dissolve it in the sink to drain away).

If you use salt in place of sand, you can take the crystal grid concept a step further! Place the crystals in your “salt garden” and rake as you would if it were sand. This provides a way to cleanse your crystals in a way that is also visually appealing!

Consider different ways to make this plant-less garden a magical addition to the dorm or coffee table!

And may your harvests always be bountiful!
Blessed Be! )O(

Kupala Night (21/22 June) - Slavic Celebration of  summer solstice

Girls may float wreaths of flowers (often lit with candles) on rivers, and would attempt to gain foresight into their relationship fortunes from the flow patterns of the flowers on the river. Men may attempt to capture the wreaths, in the hope of capturing the interest of the woman who floated the wreath. (via Wikipedia)

anonymous asked:

magical tattoos? like tattoos with special properties or they move around on skin or smth?

  • After turning 18, every kid is required to go to special tattoo parlor where the town’s resident mage gives them a tattoo. No one knows what the tattoo will be until it’s done, not even the mage. The tattoo forms itself into a symbol that will become very important in the person’s life. On Character A’s 18th birthday, their tattoo forms itself into a crown.
  • Character A convinces their best friend, Character B, to go get a tattoo. Not wanting anything big, Character B gets a small flower on their back. The next morning, Character A gasps when they see Character B’s entire back covered in vines and leaves and flowers, and they only seem to be spreading further.
  • Everyone gets one tattoo in their life, and that tattoo gives them a power of their choosing. Character A really wants the power to see through objects, so they get a pair of eyes. However, after a series of visions, they come to realize the power that manifested was actually seeing into the future.
  • “I’m a mage and have been searching for an apprentice for years by pushing a little bit of magic into everyone tattoo I give, just to see if anyone reacts to it. None had, until I gave you yours. The second the needle touched your skin, ink started flowing into patterns everywhere. Please stop freaking out” AU
  • When tattoos start appearing on one’s body overnight, it’s a sign that they’re meant to join the War of Magic. However, Character A’s parents are major pacifists and hate the war, so Character A begins their own struggle as they try to hide the growing tattoos their parents.
  • “I’ve been told all my life that moving tattoos were normal – a sign of being healthy. But I don’t think that means the tattoos are supposed to come off of my skin and fly around? Cause that’s why I’ve been hiding out in my room all week” AU
instagram

Rheoscopic Planet: this example of fluid flow kinetic art uses rheoscopic fluid encased in bubble of plastic to reveal the intricate motion of turbulence. A suspension of tiny flat mica crystals tend to align themselves at the boundaries where the fluid is moving comparatively faster or slower, making the typically invisible flow patterns visible.

3

Many solids can dissolve in liquids like water, and while this is often treated as a matter of chemistry, fluid dynamics can play a role as well. As seen in this video by Beauty of Science, the dissolving candy coating of an M&M spreads outward from the candy. This is likely surface-tension-driven; as the coating dissolves, it changes the surface tension near the candy and flow starts moving away thanks to the Marangoni effect. With multiple candies dissolving near one another, these outward flows interfere and create more complex flow patterns. 

These flows directly affect the dissolving process by altering flow near the candy surface, which may increase the rate of dissolution by scouring away loose coating. They can also change the concentration of dissolved coating in different areas, which then feeds back to the flow by changing the surface tension gradient. (Video and image credit: Beauty of Science)

Kupala Night - old Slavic celebration. It relates to summer solstice. Many of the rites related to this holiday within Slavic religious beliefs, due to the ancient Kupala rites, are connected with the role of water in fertility and ritual purification. On Kupala day, young people jump over the flames of bonfires in a ritual test of bravery and faith. The failure of a couple in love to complete the jump while holding hands is a sign of their destined separation. Girls may float wreaths of flowers (often lit with candles) on rivers, and would attempt to gain foresight into their relationship fortunes from the flow patterns of the flowers on the river. Men may attempt to capture the wreaths, in the hope of capturing the interest of the woman who floated the wreath.

Hot Docent

Summary: Stiles usually doesn’t have any trouble concentrating on drawing when he’s at the museum, but lately he’s been very distracted by someone with a wonderful voice and a perfect jawline.

Notes: Written for the museum AU on this post. (On AO3)


The Beacon Hills Art Museum isn’t the greatest, no. But it’s free for college students and always peaceful and quiet, so Stiles shows up pretty often anyway.

The museum has recently put several new pieces on display, which is great for Stiles because it gives him new things to sketch, but it also sucks, because now there’s a bunch of other people showing up to look at them. Noisy, distracting people.

Keep reading

The King-part 1

The King Masterlist

Summary: King Arthur-ish AU featuring Negan as a medieval king. It had to be done. It just did. Sorry.

Warnings: Negan…language, smut, violence. Possible dub-con. Posessive Negan. Darker than I usually write. No fluff. There is no historical accuracy intended in this piece. I barely utilized the google.

Tags: @negans-network @negansmutweek @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ladylorelitany @melodicdolls @superwholoki @thatwriterizzy

It was a day of celebration throughout the land. Banners flew in the breeze. Cheers and songs could be heard around the castle and surrounding city. The king had married a lovely new bride from a neighboring kingdom a week ago, and today the rest of the kingdom came together to watch the festivities and sport that only tournament can boast. Knights traveled to compete in hopes of winning fortune and glory and perhaps a place at King Negan’s legendary table of knights known as the Saviors. For it was they, that protected the surrounding lands from invaders and pillagers in return for tribute.

Villagers came from far and wide to witness the spectacle and to catch a glimpse their beautiful new queen. For a beauty Queen Gwendolyn was.  Red flowing locks braided in intricate patterns flowed down her back. Her porcelain skin was the envy of all. Large green eyes adorned with long thick lashes watched as each event play before her eyes. Lips the shade of a dusky rose formed a dazzling smile as cheered for the victors from her private box in the stand. The king had decided to participate in his favorite event, the melee, at the end of the tournament and was awaiting his turn on the side of the field while the jousting commenced.

The last knights lined their horses at opposite ends of the tiltyard. Each bowed to the queen. Their visors were lowered. The horses charged. The lances pointed towards the other. They hit each other with a resounding blow.  One knight fell to the ground. He struggled to stand but fell back in defeat. His squires hurried to help him off the field and to corral the horse.

The victor, Sir Richard of Alexandria, walked his white horse along the edge stands and removed his helm. He shook his wavy locks damp with perspiration. His blue eyes smiled to the crowd as he waved his hand. As he approached the royal box, he pulled a rose from his gauntlet and threw it the new queen. She caught it and the smile immediately disappeared from her face. The color drained her delicate features. Her eyes scanned the edge of the yard and found her husband’s glaring in her direction. He had seen the knight present his favor and her accept it. She quickly handed the rose to a handmaiden and sat down. Head forward, back straight, the very picture of an elegant lady.

Keep reading

I was bored on my way to uni, so I decided to mull over some fake banter between Asala (the elf-blooded teenage daughter of one of my Qunari Inquisitors, Taashath Adaar) and the companions, should she tag along on missions.

 ***

Asala: So you’re like the Qunari-Qunari, are you? All right and proper?

Bull: [chuckles] Oh, I am seldom proper, kid. But yes, I follow the Qun.

Asala: You know, my Da’s not that different from you.

Bull: [grunts disapprovingly]

Asala: No, but you see: you’d think he’d be able to do anything he wants without you Bennies watching over him? Well, nah! With a face and horns like those, you can only be a merc, and nothing else! It’s like a role - only instead of the Qun, it’s assigned to you by humans, and you can never escape! You can’t be an artist, or a baker, or a tailor… Did you know that my Da is actually great at making lace? He…

Taashath: Asala!

Asala: Fine, fine… Shutting up.

Bull: [thoughtfully to himself] Bennies…

***

Cassandra: When I was your age, I had already spent many years training as a Seeker.

Asala: Is that why you are so uptight? Jealous that I get to have fun and you didn’t?

Cassandra: [disgusted noise] My point is that you could at least try learning to be more disciplined. Your father worries about you; it… it distracts him from his duties.

Asala: Yeah, well, so do you, but you don’t see me prattling to you about discipline, yeah?

Varric (if in party): Hah! Good retort, Braids!

Cassandra: I… I don’t know what you mean… How could I possibly…

Asala: Go discipline your cheekbones, Lady Seeker. They are too distracting.

***

Vivienne: If I were you, my dear, I’d spend less time around that Sera character.

Sera (if in party): She’s not a baby, yeah? She can pick whatever friends she likes, with no help from bossy bitches like you!

Vivienne: All those… unseemly pranks, races around the keep in the middle of the night - and you are picking up some of her mannerisms, too! That is quite unbecoming for the Inquisitor’s daughter.

Asala: But I swear I saw you smile when I did that thing to Cullen!

Vivienne: It was… mildly amusing, yes - but that is not my point, darling.

(If Sera is in party) Asala and Sera together: No breeches!

***

Asala: Hey, can I poke you for a moment?

Solas: Not in the literal sense, I hope?

Sera (if in party): Aww look, Master Egghead is still upset about the tadpoles in his mug!

Asala: No… I just thought you might look at this for me. It’s, um, a bracelet - but I can’t put it on cuz my wrists are too big, so I wear it on a chain like an amulet of sorts. It belonged to my mother.

Solas: It has… Elvhen writing on it.

Asala: Sure it does! My mother was an elf!

Sera (if in party): Eww, I knew you were part elfy, but I never figured you’d be hold-on-to-weird-junk sorta elfy!

Solas: And I suppose you want me to translate it for you? Very well. I shall examine it when we are in a quieter place.

***

Sera (if she was in party during the previous banter): Hey, ‘bout last time. I… I sorta take it back and all. You are all right, even with the elfy junk bits!

Taashath: You make it sound like she should be ashamed of her mother!

Sera: Whoah, don’t go all red-eyed on me!

Asala: Da, she didn’t mean anything by it.

Sera: Sure I did! I meant s'all good!

Taashath: Hmph. All the same, think before you talk next time.

Vivienne (if in party): Sometimes you are impossibly demanding, my dear.

***

Solas: That inscription on your mother’s bracelet - it is a prayer to Mythal. I translated the whole text and sent my notes up to your quarters.

Asala: Oh, thanks Egg… I mean Solas. After all these years, we’ll finally know what it means! Even my mother herself could only make out a couple of words. Right, Da?

Taashath: Yes. Most of the folks in Liliel’s alienage could barely read common, let alone the language of the ancient elves.

Solas: That is… Most unfortunate.

Sera (if in party): Ya know what’s unfortunate? Going this long without food! I think I’ll go shoot a ram or somethin’.

***

Asala: You know, Blackwall, the way you go on, I could make a sport of dangling off a cliff to see who runs faster to catch me, you or Da.

Taashath: Don’t even think about it!

Blackwall: Your safety is not a joking matter!

Asala: Ugh, why do you never loosen up around me? Is it something about my face? My voice? Me being taller than you?

Blackwall: You are the Inquisitor’s child. My first duty is to protect you.

Asala: This child is seven-bloody-teen years old, thank you very much.

Blackwall: I thought your father said you had only turned sixteen recently.

Asala: I’ll get back on that when you’re less boring.

***

Asala: Hey Bull, are there singers under the Qun? Or writers?

Bull: That what you wanna be, kid?

Asala: Yeah, kinda… But have you ever seen a Vashoth singer anywhere?

Bull: Can’t say I have. Unless you count drunken singing in taverns.

Asala: Do you think the Qunari Tama… things would have picked the right role for me? The role that matches what I wanna do with my life?

Taashath: Don’t put any ideas into her head, Bull!

Bull: Wasn’t going to, boss. Like I said, the Qun is not for everyone. That teenage rebellion thing your kid likes doing - probably wouldn’t end well.

***

Varric: These poems you write, Braids - they are pretty good.

Asala: Wow, really?

Varric: You actually make the words rhyme without making the whole thing seem like one of those grating kiddy songs.

Asala: Hah, I don’t suppose there are too many kiddy songs about gravestones and doomed lovers and such.

Taashath: About that… I could never get why you have to make all your stuff so dark!

Varric: She’s a teenager, Floofy. Writing dark poetry is part of her job description. But unlike some teenagers, she is actually good at it.

***

Cassandra: I… I happened to be passing by when Varric was looking at your last poem, and accidentally glanced over his shoulder.

Asala: Oh? So now you’re gonna tell me that poetry’s undisciplined too?

Cassandra: No, I just… Why did that woman’s husband have to die?

Asala: So she’d mourn him and break the reader’s heart?

Varric (if in party): Don’t bother, Braids. The Seeker only accepts happily-ever-afters.

Cassandra: That is… the most ludicrous reasoning I ever heard! Besides, she had plenty of opportunity to come to his aid in that battle! If she had flanked the enemies that he had engaged…

Asala: She isn’t based on you, you know. Because that would mean her hubby’s based on Da, and I can’t kill off my own father!

Cassandra: [disgusted noise]

***

Dorian: I hear you made quite a scene at the execution site.

Asala: Hah, I sure did! Shame you weren’t there to see it!

Dorian: I deemed drinking myself witless to be a far more pleasant pastime than watching your father cut off my former mentor’s head.

Taashath: Dorian, we’ve been over this.

Dorian: With you, yes. But not with the girl. She deserves a personal thank you for standing up to a certain valiant leader.

Asala: I am great at that. Years of practice.

(Some time later)

Dorian: I wonder… What exactly did you say to change his mind?

Asala: Well, Da ranted on and on about how your hooded friend turned me into a dead chunk of red lyrium in the bad future, and how hurt and angry he was. And I said, 'So now you know how he is feeling!’. And then Da made this droopy face he is making now and…

Taashath: Will you two please change the subject?

Dorian: Very well. Pray tell me, young Asala, what are your sentiments towards grapes?

***

Cole: Flowing, rhythmic patterns, cryptic but beautiful, how does he do it? You… You really like the way I talk?

Asala: Of course I do! It’s like you’re brimming over with poetry all the time!

Cole: I just try to sort through things I hear. It’s hard sometimes, when people are so solid and are hurting too loudly. I… may not make a lot of sense.

Asala: Hey, I don’t make a lot of sense either! We can start a club!

***

Blackwall: And then he said: but at least the turkey still has its tail!

Asala: Hah, finally! I knew you were not completely hopeless! What a great un-boring story!

Blackwall: It’s from my old army days.

Asala: Huh, I thought army humour would be dirtier.

Blackwall: It is. I had to censor it somewhat so your father wouldn’t kill me.

(Some time later)

Asala: What about Grey Warden humour? Is it dirty too?

Blackwall: Well… The thing is, by the time I joined the Wardens, I had lost some of my boyish penchant for amusing tales.

Asala: Too bad… Well, army humour it is, then! Do I get to hear the uncensored version when I turn eighteen?

Taashath: Asala!

***

(After the cutscene where Dorian tells Taashath that Felix died)

Dorian: It was you, wasn’t it?

Asala: Salt sprinkles on Josie’s chocolate? Yeah, it was me. But I only added a little!

Dorian: No, I mean that poem on Alexius’ desk. The one about the man who planted a tree and then, when it withered, remembered how he had sat in its shade? He told me about it this morning.

Asala: I have no idea what you’re talking about! Trees! Shade! I’d never write such sappy nonsense!

Dorian: You brought the man who almost destroyed the world to the verge of tears. That is quite an accomplishment, young lady - and I say that as an incredibly accomplished person myself.

***

Asala: So… You and Da - did you do the bnb thing or what?

Cassandra: Bnb? What manner of teenage jargon is this?

Asala: Oh, you know… Birds and bees.

Cassandra: Birds and… Oh! Oh, I see!

Taashath: Asala, leave the Lady Seeker alone!

Asala: Still Lady Seeker, huh? So I guess you didn’t do it… What’s stopping you? I mean, you have the hots for each other - it’s sooo obvious!

Taashath: Asala, stop this - or so help me, when we return to Skyhold, you’re grounded!

***

Cole: Woke up from a nightmare again. Demons, calling, clawing, constricting; Uldred’s eyes, bottomlessly black, suddenly not two but a dozen; Meredith bathed in crimson. And then - soft, soothing, shimmering, rainbows dancing over his bed. It had been so long since he started the morning with a smile.

Taashath: What are you talking about, Cole?

Asala: We put shards of coloured glass into the holes in Cullen’s ceiling. Now they both protect him from the rain and give off pretty light!

Taashath: Wait, have you been climbing the roof?

Cole: She didn’t fall. She didn’t die. Today is another day when she didn’t die.

Asala: Yeah… Thanks for this cheery thought, Cole.

Cole: It wasn’t me. It was your father.

***

Dorian: The books I ordered from Tevinter have finally arrived.

Asala: Does this mean you’ll give me a lesson tonight?

Dorian: Of course. You already have those Orlesian volumes, don’t you? Southern historians are biased against Tevinter; our historians are biased against the rest of the world… It will be educational to pit them against one another.

Asala: And fun!

Taashath: Wait, did my daughter just call learning fun?

Dorian: Why the tone of surprise? What did you try to teach her?

Taashath: How to run a merc company.

Dorian: Well, there you have it!

***

Asala: Um, Cassandra… If you hesitate about Da because of me - please don’t.

Cassandra: Because of you?

Asala: Yeah, like… If you worry that I’ll hate you for stealing him and replacing my mother and all.

Cassandra: Nothing could be further from my mind! Even if my relationship with the Inquisitor wasn’t strictly professional!

Asala: Well, in case it ever stops being 'strictly professional’ - I don’t even remember my mother. Da raised me alone. And I actually think it’d be good for him to have someone in his life. Take care of the stupid old fella and all.

Taashath: I heard that!

***

(After Taashath saves the Chargers)

Asala: Hey, Bull… Don’t look so glum! Remember that time you said the Qun isn’t for everyone? Maybe it wasn’t for you too. It just took you this long to figure out.

Bull: Hmph. And what do you suppose is for me then?

Asala: Maryden put some of my poems to music. She’ll be singing them tonight at the tavern. Krem will come, and the other Chargers. I think if you come too, you’ll understand what is for you.

Bull: Huh, I think you spend too much time round Cole. That cryptic shit is beginning to rub off.

Taashath: Bull, what did I tell you?

Bull: Oh, right, boss - don’t swear in front of the kid! Fuck, I’m sorry!

***

(After Revelations)

Asala: You know, it’s kinda funny.

Blackwall: What is?

Asala: I heard stories about the Grey Wardens plenty of times when I was a kid, with the Blight having recently ended and all. And when I met you, you were just like I imagined the Grey Wardens should be.

Blackwall: And now… I have disappointed you.

Asala: What? No! The Grey Wardens are gonna disappoint me from now on, if they don’t pull off all this amazing noble-warrior-atoning-for-his-past stuff!

Blackwall: You… You don’t know the whole story, do you?

Asala: I know enough to believe that you deserve sticking around with our Inquisition. And you can always tell me the uncensored version when I am eighteen, right?

***

Cassandra: Are you feeling better now? Have you asked Vivienne for a potion?

(If Vivienne is in party) Vivienne: She has indeed, my dear. But such things are generally not discussed in public.

(Otherwise) Asala: Sure! But do we… do we have to discuss my darkspawn week in front of everyone?

Cassandra: I just wanted to make sure you were all right.

Asala: Aww, thanks, mom.

Cassandra: You do not have to call me ’m'am’.

Asala: I wasn’t.

***

(After Last Resort of Good Men)

Asala: Damn, Dorian.

Dorian: Was that expletive a sign of admiration for my good looks?

Asala: I mean… My Da yells at me sometimes, and tries to punish me when I mess up… And this makes me think that he is the meanest person in the world… But it’s nothing like what you went through, is it?

Dorian: Oh, there were plenty of temper tantrums on my part too.

Asala: And for good reason! Me, I’m just a selfish teenager who wants attention - but you… You are amazing and you deserve better!

Dorian: You are not exactly worthless yourself, young lady.

***

(After Bring Me the Heart of Snow White)

Vivienne: Bastien’s family shall be holding a musical salon as a tribute to both himself and his wife. I would very much like it if you attended, my dear.

Asala: Whaa- ? Really?

Vivienne: If your father gives you permission, of course. You have such a wonderful singing voice; it is wasted in the courtyards and bath houses of Skyhold.

Asala: But… Won’t they be scared of me being… me? Unless you give me a mask to wear, I suppose.

Vivienne: It will be a half-face mask only; otherwise how would you sing?

Asala: Oh.

Vivienne: Being who you are ought to be a source of strength, not weakness. Always remember that, darling.

Cover me up, Cuddle me in

(ao3)


Bellamy is tired. Tired to the bone.

He tries to let himself in quietly but the click of the lock is loud enough that Clarke stirs, smiling sleepily at him from a cocoon of blankets and furs. She always sleeps through the better part of the day after a night shift in medical, and she’d fallen into bed right as he was leaving it in the early pre-dawn hours for a hunting trip.

“Hey,” he whispers, sitting down on his side of the bed and leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.”

She shakes her head. “I’m up now. How’d it go?”

“Smooth as ever.” He rolls his eyes. “Wilkerson accidentally sprung a Grounder trap and it took us the better part of the morning to get him loose. Your mom is patching him up now.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s fine. We managed to get some birds, some rabbits, a handful of squirrels.”

“That won’t be enough for the whole camp,” Clarke frowns, sitting up. Her hair is matted down on one side and her face has red marks pressed into it from the pillow, evidence of a good sleep. It makes him smile despite her seriousness. He forgets how young they are sometimes, but moments like this tend to remind him.

“We also took down a boar on the edge of the territory,” he grins, reaching out to unstick a golden strand from her cheek. “I’m a provider.”

Keep reading