“It’s not cold. Be quiet.”
And the stupid thing is, it is cold. Grian’s never lived in a desert before, but he’d expected it to be hot all the time, not just during the day. It’s the desert, after all—the only things that grow here are spindly leafless bushes, and all the animals that he’s spotted spend most of their time in the shade of sand mounds and rocks.
Most of the nights have still been a bit warm for what Grian’s used to, but apparently the winter’s coming on fast, and it surely has nothing to do with a certain Red King. An execution had occurred just this morning, and now Ren is Red, and apparently the rest of the world has been suffering from it.
“Yes it is,” grumbles the pile of blankets beside him, and Grian sighs.
He’s supposed to be on watch alone, for half the night, then wake up Scar to watch the other half. Scar, however, thinks that keeping watch is stupid, even when Grian has repeatedly stressed that he is no longer the only Red on the server, and one of the others is a very dangerous enemy to them.
“If you’re cold, get in bed,” Grian tells him, and Scar shifts and bit before speaking, teeth clacking together exaggeratedly.
Grian rolls his eyes, wraps his arms a little tighter around himself. His sweater’s getting pretty scraggly these days. He just had to darn the elbow last week, but that’s about the extent of his knitting skills. If it falls apart completely, he’ll be stuck in just his undershirt, nothing to keep him warm in the approaching winter.
“You know, there’s a way to make us both warm,” Scar teases, his head emerging from the blankets to wink at Grian. Grian shoves him.
“Scar! Stop it and go to bed!”
“Oh, come on, I didn’t mean anything!” Scar says innocently. “I just meant if we were both in bed right now, we could be sharing body heat! I don’t know what you thought I meant. You have a dirty mind, Grian.”
