[ Silently, Carver gets himself situated. He gets his clothes righted, replaces his knives. He's buckling his hood back on when Gold returns. Layers are good, layers are as close to proper armor as he gets these days.
He stands without a word and takes the glass from the bedside table. Drinks slowly. It feels good on his throat. ]
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He stands without a word and takes the glass from the bedside table. Drinks slowly. It feels good on his throat. ]
Thanks. For letting me cook.