A Gift Shared is twice a Blessing - Mat & Ren's Haven

"Hop." Wasn't that far.

It wasn't, but, he was loath to make assumptions - especially after such a strange day. He looked at the skin on his forearm for a moment, as it cooled, paled. No. Not a dream.

He took two steps, and hopping off the roof. Without thinking, he turned, ready to catch her. He knew she did not need the help - she was more terrifying than he sometimes in raw physicality. But it just seemed right.

Still clutching her little bundle of flowers, she tossed the blankets down to him before she hopped down, allowing him to catch her.

If he was alive, he wouldn't have felt her weight. Dead, empowered, she was a feather. He held onto her longer than needed, setting her down after the moment after the moment.

"Gotta feed ya ah side ah ribs or sumptin'. Ya don't weight nuttin'"

She didn't mind the extra time in his arms.

"You just want me to have a human ghetto booty."

"Ghetto booty?" he was confused as he put her down, following after her.

He stopped, tilted his head, and peered at said backside. Pondering. Shrugged. "Wouldn't mind. Beh ah bit softah ah suppose. But ah more meant ah can barely feel ya mass."

Some jokes were simply wasted on the big beast. Still, she wiggled her butt playfully.

Some were. But that, he understood what to do with. And with Ren, he didn't bother to hold back - she received a full handed swat on the ass.

She squacked and ran into the house.

It was always more fun when the prey ran. A feral grin spread across his ruddy features, as he began to spin the blanket around between his hands, making a rat tail as he gave chase.

"No fair!" She called out from somewhere else in the house. Celerity, the great escape maker.

He narrowed his eyes, sniffing the air. "Ah was supposed teh beh fair?" as he went stalking for his favorite prey.

Every time he got to where he thought she she should be he'd find a single flower, but no Ren.

Well, that made it hard to keep the wrapped up blanket at the ready, but each flower was gently picked up, and laid around the brim of his hat so he could still have his hands free. Be very, very quiet - he was hunting Ren's.

It was hard to sneak when you were giggling. And she was giggling.

The flower hatted Gangrel went 'giggle' hunting then. It was hard to sneak when you weighed so much in an old house. Creak. Crrreeeaaak.

She was hiding in the kitchen, a loud snort gave her away.

The hat came around the corner first, flowers riding all around it, then the rest of him with an almost 'ah HA!' look on his face. gotcha?

She was there, the last flower still in her hand. She held it out, offering it to the predator who had managed to find her time and again.

He smiled, putting the blanket down on the table and taking off his hat. Rather than take the flower, he knelt down in front of her, offering the flowers on the hat.

She reached out, her fingers brushing his hair back from his brow. She gathered up the flowers again, quickly turning them into a pretty little bundle. It was a strange image, him kneeling in front of her, a bouquet in her hands. A very strange image.

He watched her, slowly standing up and placing his hat where it normally sat. He was quiet, as he often was, looking down at her as she worked. As she held the little bouquet. It sparked a memory from a book he had read. His hands rested on her hips. "Gotcha." It was not what he meant to say, or fully what he wished to say, but it seemed fitting. Or perhaps safe. They had changed so much in the time together and apart. Polar opposites - one of God, one of Beast. Yet as they struggled within the webs and nets which plagued them, in his mind at least, there was comfort to be had. And for he who had known so little of comfort, or of the simple things others took for granted, that would continue to mean more than he could say. In either language he knew.

She was smiling, her nimble hands tuning the batch of flowers into something even more lovely. "So it appears." She teased.