Luthlaya

Knees pulled up, arms crossed over his chest so his hands were tucked under for warmth, he lay on his side so that the pale orange glow of the fire flickered over his features, offering a tiny amount of warmth to bare skin. The light blanket cast aside not even minutes ago lay to one side, echoes of rippling ponds in the dance of midnight and starlit upon the folds. From the ground, not quite satisfied with its slow victory over leaf and twig, a faint touch of frost reached out, catching upon the edge of blanket and man alike. The night was young yet; the temperature was sure to drop further. Yet he was lost within his subconscious, the slow