Cullen, still in his shirtsleeves, is by the window, fiddling with one of the straps on his breastplate.
(He's also humming one of the Orlesian drinking songs from last night.)
Other articles of clothing are neatly and tightly folded to exacting standard. It's a shame that the stack of paper in the window seat seems quite... high. Pity Cullen's horse.
no subject
(He's also humming one of the Orlesian drinking songs from last night.)
Other articles of clothing are neatly and tightly folded to exacting standard. It's a shame that the stack of paper in the window seat seems quite... high. Pity Cullen's horse.