for wraithes

[ketterdamn]

[ It's been a long day. Which doesn't quite do it justice, since most of his days heading the Dregs have been long. No, today had been long in the way that pulled taffy is; just when one thinks it'll snap, it keeps going down to the spider fine threads. He's running on those threads now, as he opens the front door and attempts to stop thinking about the day in its entirety.

A monumental task for him, because his mind keeps spinning back to the problem with the Black Tips. To the idle reminders of papers he has to get through tomorrow or the meetings he knows he'll be going into. Meetings for information from Roeder, for Anika's report, the drawn out process of sorting through new recruits. All things that need his attention. He leans back against the door, letting out a long sigh. He wants nothing more than to flop right into bed and curl up with Inej.

Prying himself away from the door, he makes his way to the bedroom, pulling off his coat and hanging it on a nearby hook. His gloves (for warmth, nowadays) are next, deposited on the bureau. It's a quiet process, not wanting to bother Inej too much—she's already probably heard him come in. ]