“Let’s go train, turtles!” Rak announced to the occupants of Khun’s room, that is Bam and Khun.
Khun looked up from his lighthouse work (which he was doing from the comfort of his bed) and blinked. “No, today’s a lazy day.”
Bam looked curious. “What do you mean?”
“Come here.” Khun made room and Bam curled up against him, then sighed softly as he relaxed his head against Khun’s shoulder.
Rak waxed eloquent on the merits of hard work. (Khun was quite familiar with those merits, having been obligated to train hard since his childhood every time another life and death contest loomed.)
Bam burrowed closer and tucked his face against Khun’s neck, clearly quite comfortable.
“Come on, Black Turtle. You and I will go train!”
Bam muttered something indecipherable. Khun smirked.
“What did he say?” Rak demanded.
“He sees the appeal.” Khun stayed on his lighthouse, enjoying Rak’s jaw agape, and plotted and schemed their next victory.0