KieranSoares
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2013
- Posts
- 25,502
"Take your time, darlin'," Sam offered gently, staying beside Riley and Andre and pulling them both into his arms.
Since being released from Alex's care and into Nora's, Owen had moved back to his own tent that sat near the treeline mostly on its own. After twenty years of living in a cabin separate but still near the Voya, Owen liked his space and the quiet. Another tent now stood beside it where Nora stayed. The pair had been spending most of their time together getting Owen's strength back, though it had become clear he would never be his former self again. Some things had been broken that would never be quite right again thanks to his age and old injuries from years past.
But as Fiona arrived, she found a familiar sight. Normal, even. Owen was sitting beside his campfire cleaning and sharpening tools now that his arm was healed enough to work properly. Fresh venison was sliced into strips and laying across an iron grate to cook over the low flames, and a freshly-scraped deer hide was tied up to a frame nearby. It was his usual daily routine from home. As he worked, his expression was calm but melancholy. Despite the feeling of impending doom, he was keeping himself busy with normal things and trying to hold onto a sense of stability.
As Fiona approached, Owen glanced up and took a deep breath. "Hello, little kit," he welcomed softly. "Have a seat, if you're not in a rush."
Since being released from Alex's care and into Nora's, Owen had moved back to his own tent that sat near the treeline mostly on its own. After twenty years of living in a cabin separate but still near the Voya, Owen liked his space and the quiet. Another tent now stood beside it where Nora stayed. The pair had been spending most of their time together getting Owen's strength back, though it had become clear he would never be his former self again. Some things had been broken that would never be quite right again thanks to his age and old injuries from years past.
But as Fiona arrived, she found a familiar sight. Normal, even. Owen was sitting beside his campfire cleaning and sharpening tools now that his arm was healed enough to work properly. Fresh venison was sliced into strips and laying across an iron grate to cook over the low flames, and a freshly-scraped deer hide was tied up to a frame nearby. It was his usual daily routine from home. As he worked, his expression was calm but melancholy. Despite the feeling of impending doom, he was keeping himself busy with normal things and trying to hold onto a sense of stability.
As Fiona approached, Owen glanced up and took a deep breath. "Hello, little kit," he welcomed softly. "Have a seat, if you're not in a rush."