[Bertolt grumbles a little in approval when there's confirmation that nothing is on fire, his legs stretching out and toes popping before he draws them back onto the bed. There's no fire, so that's good - he can go back to sleep and not have to worry about whether or not Borf let a few embers go wild or Marcel getting too rough with one of the bathroom towels he had deemed as a new toy.
He even bunches the pillow under his arms and buries his face into it. Everything is quiet now, so it's fine, right?
It's something Bertolt is more than happy to believe and he starts to let sleep reclaim him.]
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He even bunches the pillow under his arms and buries his face into it. Everything is quiet now, so it's fine, right?
It's something Bertolt is more than happy to believe and he starts to let sleep reclaim him.]