Glissander looked out to sea, absentmindedly playing with the end of his braid; this was a habit that he displayed when he was nervous or deep in thought. In this case, it was both. Far out to starboard, on the horizon, Glissander could see dark storm clouds brewing forebodingly. In his mind, he was already working out the precautions that would have to be taken. Of course, the clouds might fizzle out and disperse, or they might pass by the ship entirely before the storm began, but it was better to be safe than sorry in Glissander’s book. Additionally, he had a gut feeling that the tempest would catch them. He sighed softly, and then jolted as he felt a warm, calloused hand on his shoulder. He turned, and then relaxed when he saw who it was.
“Lomytion, you startled me,” Glissander murmured, and leaned his head onto the taller man’s chest. Lomytion gently wrapped an arm around Glissander’s waist.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Glissander close
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