#baronyofthesilverwolf

Thistle is not unused to finding intruders in her workshop - Neverlanders come and go, Muppet wanders in and out, even Marigold sometimes ventures in to carefully! do a bit of dusting on the least volatile looking equipment.

But a satyr sleeping under her workbench? That's new.

"Th'fuck?" She nudges the interloper with a steel toe.

He curls up a little bit- oh, it’s Julius. Turning, he cracks an eye. “Ehhhh…. Five more minutes?”

"Did Bluebell kick you out?"

He rolls over groggily. “Quite the contrary. She’s… ah… ovulating.” A helpless shrug. “Haven’t gotten a wink of sleep in a week, and let me tell you, bragging right aside, a man needs SOME rest.”

“Don’t tell her I’m here!” He pleads.

"What's in it for me?"

“Aw, Thistle, don’t be like that.” He groans. “What do you want? A couple bottles of my finest? Never did hold to that 21 drinking age thing, if you know what you’re doing and to keep your head about.”

A glance around, eyes landing on the flamethrower. “….or… something else…”

"I have some aspirin if you need it."

She's already digging for the bottle. "And I wasn't gonna tell Bluebell, not really. I'm no narc."

She picks up a mug and sniffs it. A quizzical look, and a small sip.

GRIMACE. She picks up the OTHER mug with dark liquid inside.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungover, just sleep starved. Nursing those foals has sparked something in my love and she’s gung-ho… well, they say once a day is enough on fertile days but clearly she wants to game her odds…” clearly not at all embarrassed about the subject

Snort-grin.