Pets Their Head, Pets Their Head A Lot, Gives Them A Bunch Of Head Pats Because Wow What A Good Friend

pets their head, pets their head a lot, gives them a bunch of head pats because wow what a good friend

Enkidu was quite happy where they were  —  tired, content noise.  Head propped up on the others leg  (  fingers playing with the tips of their hair  )  as Gilgamesh did whatever it was he was prone to do.  They did not mind.  Always happy to just hover in the kings presence.  Warm day shining bright; they felt like a rather comfortable cat.  Reaching up with a huff to tug at the others bangs  (  unlike them, to demand attention  )  but it felt much like time for a nap.  They had been promised a spar before the day closed.

Slowly they were falling asleep.

It was not out of the ordinary to feel the gentle motion of fingers in their hair no more then it was to feel a playful tug.  Half asleep, Enkidu almost didn’t notice the resemblance to how one pats a dog  —  soft scratches only adding to their drowzy state.  Eyes falling shut with a hum.

❝  If you do not wish to fight today, you could just say rather then–  ❞  Cut off with a yawn, head tilted to the side  (  hand moving to follow the silent guide  ).  Green blinking back open to the others face.  ❝  –putting me to sleep instead.  ❞

just.... saving this........ forever.....................

Groans and hugs them, burying his face into their hair. He's tired and needs cuddles to recharge.

Enkidu found their most peaceful moments tucked in the back of a garden, amongst the plants with soil beneath their fingers.  They were a creation of the earth  —  clay  —  and time fostered amongst its most simple lives still rings true.  There is a sense of peace when the light lays low  (  still shining through the leaves  )  as they keep to themselves.

There are not many in this place they are prone to seek out. 

Stillness broken by the sound of footsteps.  They did not bother to look up  (  over  )  to acknowledge the approach.  Just the tilt of their head, hand moving to lightly grasp his shirt.  A commonplace; this ritual.  Seeking a refuge from the chaotic mess of life amongst the others.  From hard won fights and mended skin.  Enkidu was more than willing to allow the other respite in their presence  —  the face tucked into their hair accepted with a hum.  Posture moving to bring the caster into a more comfortable position  (  their own head tucked right alongside  ).  The others tired distress not hard to feel, grasped in gentle hands as Enkidu’s fingers combed through snow with head on shoulder.  The song murmuring out in its own hushed crescendo. 

Moments stolen not much, but enough.

merlin is a bubble blowing bubble baby and is not allowed in this house of god

chaldaean.

❝ Your hair is beautiful. ❞ Her voice was a whisper of awe, admiring the way the light caught the soft locks. It seemed almost like a form of grass with it’s vibrant color. Without thinking her hand gently touched a stray piece, bringing it back to the others. ❝ I’m not the best at braiding but… I could do it if you want. ❞

They were not vain.  No, that was more their king's style  (  all that glitters is not gold  )  as they laid content.  Endless length of hair more a byproduct than anything else  ---  formed without much thought.  At her words, Enkidu hand drifts towards the strands along their face.  Offering an easy, soft smile  (  gentle touch accepted with a hum  ).  ❝  Thank you.  If you would like, I would love that.  ❞  Hand motioning for her to join them.

Draped across the others back, chin propped on shoulder. Without much thought their fingers braid stray wisps of hair ( comfortable ). Quiet as Merlin reads.

His gaze did not stray up from his novel, though a hand did so flee from its back cover, fingers brushing against one of Enkidu’s hands in affectionate acknowledgment. It was not often that Merlin received such affection, if at all, though it was with great enthusiasm he accepted such. Perhaps a part of him was not yet accustomed to friendship, yet he found himself easing into old and new routines easily. Merlin was even kind enough to incline his head to make the whole braiding process easier, humming beneath his breath pleasantly. His eyes tracing the curvature of the letters was only a hollow action, barely registered and more focused on Enkidu’s presence.