fandomhighdorms | FDR Campfire, Saturday Morning

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FDR Campfire, Saturday Morning

Arthur's dreams last night had been full of strange images of old, powerful wolves and golden lion cubs that he chose not to consider further. It was Morgana who got the nightmares, not him; he'd always slept fitfully and where needed.

Still, they had instilled a sudden restlessness in him, and rather than turn to the salle as he generally would, Arthur's travels brought him no further than the campfire that morning. He had no meat left of his last hunt, nor any furry fish to roast, so instead he sat down by the edge of the pit.

He did have some dried meat, and a few more dates he'd nicked off Leto earlier (well, not nicked. Commandeered. Requested, maybe, with implicit permission). They'd do for breakfast until Merlin showed up to get him enough for a proper one.

[[ open like a campfire! ]]

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"It's happened. You never know with magical creatures."

"It has?" Merlin asked, trying to think if there was anyone who became allergic to the griffin.

"Wouldn't be the first time we were caught by surprise by a stampeding herd of... Whatever."

"Moose," Merlin supplied. Like the excellent servant he was. Really.

There was a pause.

"I didn't want to pin out down to moose in particular, Merlin."

"Then what exactly are we talking about again?" Okay, way to confuse him there.

Then again... Merlin.

... Arthur stared at him.

"Fandom throwing us for a loop with an invasion of monsters," he said, slowly. "What did you think we were talking about? Wait. Never mind."

"You went off about the moose," Merlin insisted. "How am I to know?"

"The moose were an example, Merlin."

"One that you kept bringing up." And so did Merlin, but details... details.

"The moose are not the point!"

"Why are we still talking about them then?!"

"..."

Arthur stared at him.

"Because you keep bringing them into the conversation, Merlin."

"We could move on then," Merlin suggested. Because it was that simple.

"No, really," he shot back, "And here I thought I'd been enabling the topic by talking about other things."

Merlin cleared his throat. "We're still talking about it."

"No, we're now arguing about whether or not we should talk about it," Arthur said, with a dawning sense of exasperation, "Which is even more futile. How's Francine?"

... not really a topic he wanted to waste a lot of time on.

"She's fine!" And there was that red again. "Very... fine."

"That's good," Arthur said, and nothing much more. ...Really wasn't that interested in the subject.

"Yes." It was. "How is..."

Crap.

"How are things?"

There was a slight silence. (Well, Merlin, after last weekend, I spent an awful lot of time in the salle, went about quick-fixing everything else wrong in my life just to be able to deal with it, and slept with Jenny. How's that?)

"I'm thinking about getting a hunting dog," Arthur said, conversationally.

~~"That's alright! I am busy proving my heterosexuality by trying to have sex with my girlfriend. We have a book!"~~

"A hunting dog?" Oh god, did this mean he wouldn't be dragged out into the rain to hunt?

Naive Merlin is naive.

It meant he was going to get dragged out in the rain to hunt while trying to keep a very large dog under control. Congratulations, Merlin. This was what you got for repression.

"I heard there's a shop that sells them in town. We'll be paying it a visit once we return to the dorms."

Well, perhaps if someone said something, there would be less need for repression. Hmmm?

"We could go tomorrow to look," Merlin suggested brightly. The 'we' part was a bit too hopeful.

He had still been flailing about trying to figure out what had happened!

"We will," he said, "But we won't be purchasing anything until next week."

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