By The Fire

Warmth, in the night it is unnatural. As the soft amber glows through the bushes, it calls. But it belongs to someone else. Damp clothes hug onto Corinth's back and weigh him down, begging him to stay away from it. Shadows dance by the fire and stretch all the way out to the woods where he watched silently. They poked and prodded at his feet, his own shadow would be stretched long by the enriching light if he approached, but yet he did not, for there was a good reason. By the fire sat another person, their shadow dancing into the distant woods. How close will Corinth be willing to get to the soft amber flames?