[ Some of the tension ebbs out of her when Peter agrees, and she nods against his shoulder as he carries her to the next door. Almost reluctantly, she starts loosening her grip on him so she can slide to the floor. ]
[ He bends down a little to help ease the transition from his back to the floor, and when he's sure she isn't in danger of falling, he slips his hand inside of his coat to reach for an inner pocket. ]
I've got it.
[ He retrieves the key, unlocking the door and letting Yan step in first.
Peter had been up here earlier to drop off his belongings before dinner, which means the modest furnishings of the room don't surprise him. Then again, a small town like this, he wasn't expecting much to begin with. Still, it's reasonably cozy, if small, sporting a bed, a small table and chair – both currently occupied by his belongings – and a washstand. The lamp on the table is already lit, filling the room with warm, flickering light.
[ Yan looks around the small room quietly, taking note of the little bed, the chair, though she glances back at Peter when he speaks. She frowns, shaking her head. ]
I don't need that much space. You should have the bed.
[ He tosses his coat onto the back of the chair, returning to the door to lock it behind them. He tosses the room’s key onto the table in plain view as he moves to his pack, loosening the straps to free his bedroll. ]
[ She wrinkles her nose in immediate disapproval, but as he's focused on his pack, she starts to untie her dress. She turns away from him as she releases the garment, and in the same moment that it falls to the floor, she shifts into the small fox form, her tails fanning out behind her.
She turns stubbornly to look at Peter, and she hops up onto the foot of the bed, offering him a light yip, as if to say, "See?" ]
[ Foxes don't really have facial expressions, but she somehow still manages to look pleased with herself (in an "I win" sort of way). She nods, chirping quietly in quiet agreement. Peter has locked the door, and Yan doesn't exactly plan to wander out like this, so she's not that worried about the possibility of being seen; this is about as secure as it gets.
And, this way, Peter gets to sleep on the bed without having to compromise anywhere.
... Though she may bite him if he does actually kick her.
She pads over to one corner of the bed, and she turns in a small circle a few times, smoothing down the blanket until it's just right, and then she curls into a small ball with her tails tucked around her. ]
[ He strips out of his armor, laying it carefully on the table, before he tugs off his shirt. He sits on the edge of the bed, unfastening his boots. He glances over to where she’s taken up station on the corner of the bed. ]
[ Yan watches him with shrewd eyes, following the way he moves. It’s at least more subtle like this, the manner she observes him when he strips off his shirt (because he’s handsome?). She tries not to stare too much, but it’s easier for her to appreciate Peter when she’s less terrified of the potential that he means to skin her – or worse.
But as he looks over at her, she nods, resting her head on her paws with a little murmur that’s not quite a bark. She’s slept in weirder, more uncomfortable places before, and as far as she’s concerned, with a bed under her and the relative, comfortable warmth of being indoors and close to another body, she has no need to complain. Part of her feels safer like this, more normal and natural – but maybe that’s just because this form doesn’t draw the same attention her human one can. Occasionally, there’s something to be said for being treated like an animal; it can be a less objectionable objectification. ]
[ He looks skeptical for a second, but admittedly, this is a pretty good compromise for the situation. Neither of them has to sleep on the floor, and neither do they have to navigate the awkward dance of propriety when trying to share a bed. Not that Peter has ever considered himself someone who stands on ceremony, but he at least prides himself on not being a total sleezeball.
He kicks off his boots and unfastens his last weapon – a sheathed dagger at his back – to leave it resting beneath his pillow. He doesn’t expect trouble, but it’s an old habit he picked up from his shadier days that he has yet to break. He does one last circuit of the room – another bad, slightly paranoid habit – before he brings the lamp over to the nightstand. He snuffs the light before he slips under the covers, mindful of Yan’s position at the corner of the bed, and he lets out a relieved sigh as he settles. It’s been about a week since he last slept in a proper bed, and depending on how the meeting with the alchemist goes tomorrow, it could be his last time for a while. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I still have the rune on my foot. I don't— [ A flicker of hesitation. ] I don't want to be alone like this.
[ What if she sleeps too heavily? What if someone shows up in the middle of the night and she doesn't sense them first?
In her own room, she'd probably just end up sleeping under the bed, for fear of being too exposed. ]
no subject
After a moment of hesitation, he starts heading to the next door. ]
Guess you'll have to bunk with me tonight, then.
no subject
Key?
no subject
I've got it.
[ He retrieves the key, unlocking the door and letting Yan step in first.
Peter had been up here earlier to drop off his belongings before dinner, which means the modest furnishings of the room don't surprise him. Then again, a small town like this, he wasn't expecting much to begin with. Still, it's reasonably cozy, if small, sporting a bed, a small table and chair – both currently occupied by his belongings – and a washstand. The lamp on the table is already lit, filling the room with warm, flickering light.
He starts shrugging out of his coat. ]
Take the bed.
no subject
I don't need that much space. You should have the bed.
no subject
I can take the floor. It’s fine.
no subject
She turns stubbornly to look at Peter, and she hops up onto the foot of the bed, offering him a light yip, as if to say, "See?" ]
no subject
Right, right. The fox thing.
Right.
(Stupid of him to forget. Yondu would’ve clocked him for letting his guard down.)
He lets out a sigh, setting the bedroll to one side. He grumbles, ]
Yeah, yeah, fine. Point made.
[ He hesitates before moving to undo the fastenings on his armor. ]
Don’t let anyone see you like that, though. And don’t complain to me if I kick you in the middle of the night.
no subject
And, this way, Peter gets to sleep on the bed without having to compromise anywhere.
... Though she may bite him if he does actually kick her.
She pads over to one corner of the bed, and she turns in a small circle a few times, smoothing down the blanket until it's just right, and then she curls into a small ball with her tails tucked around her. ]
no subject
You’re sure you’re good like that?
no subject
[ Yan watches him with shrewd eyes, following the way he moves. It’s at least more subtle like this, the manner she observes him when he strips off his shirt (because he’s handsome?). She tries not to stare too much, but it’s easier for her to appreciate Peter when she’s less terrified of the potential that he means to skin her – or worse.
But as he looks over at her, she nods, resting her head on her paws with a little murmur that’s not quite a bark. She’s slept in weirder, more uncomfortable places before, and as far as she’s concerned, with a bed under her and the relative, comfortable warmth of being indoors and close to another body, she has no need to complain. Part of her feels safer like this, more normal and natural – but maybe that’s just because this form doesn’t draw the same attention her human one can. Occasionally, there’s something to be said for being treated like an animal; it can be a less objectionable objectification. ]
no subject
He kicks off his boots and unfastens his last weapon – a sheathed dagger at his back – to leave it resting beneath his pillow. He doesn’t expect trouble, but it’s an old habit he picked up from his shadier days that he has yet to break. He does one last circuit of the room – another bad, slightly paranoid habit – before he brings the lamp over to the nightstand. He snuffs the light before he slips under the covers, mindful of Yan’s position at the corner of the bed, and he lets out a relieved sigh as he settles. It’s been about a week since he last slept in a proper bed, and depending on how the meeting with the alchemist goes tomorrow, it could be his last time for a while. ]
Night, Yan.