[It's typical, really, that their neighbourhood would be one of those to get hit with blackouts. Diarmuid's done what he can, packing the larder with food, gathering as many quilts as he can together and enchanting them with heat spells, but there's not much more that can be done when the cold seems to permeate every surface. Even now as he staggers back into the apartment, it's with less than half of the wood he had wanted to buy for their fire.
Shaking powdery white snow out of his hair, he glances across the lounge.]
... Cú?
[Ah, there he is. Diarmuid takes a moment to wedge the draft excluder back under the door and double check that the windows are still tightly locked before heading over to the fireplace. For all his size, Berserker really has managed to completely bury himself under the blankets and it's kind of impressive. With the last of his damp clothes shirked and replaced with the sweater and dry lounge pants he left on the side, he crouches down and lifts the corner of one of blankets, peering at the dragon huddled within.]
no subject
Shaking powdery white snow out of his hair, he glances across the lounge.]
... Cú?
[Ah, there he is. Diarmuid takes a moment to wedge the draft excluder back under the door and double check that the windows are still tightly locked before heading over to the fireplace. For all his size, Berserker really has managed to completely bury himself under the blankets and it's kind of impressive. With the last of his damp clothes shirked and replaced with the sweater and dry lounge pants he left on the side, he crouches down and lifts the corner of one of blankets, peering at the dragon huddled within.]
How's the craic down there?