Bloom is watching idly while his friends are winding down from the day, each in their own way. But really he's not watching David and Clark bicker while Megan is pretending to be annoyed by their shenanigans. He's also not watching Sharylda in her separate corner hugging herself or Jacques staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face.
Bloom's attention is only on one man. Focused on the flow of his meteor hammer. All movement. Grace. Danger. Beauty. Strength. The man who cries over hurting insects and during battle turns into the most brutally efficient killing machine. Puzzling.
A soft smile spreads on Bensai's face.
Behind him the quiet steps of bare feet on leaves. Almost impossible to make out despite Bloom not trying to be especially stealthy.
A content hum in greeting from Bensai. Without opening his eyes, without getting up or turning around. Calm.
The rustling of branches as Bloom settles low in one of the trees to Bensai's left.
Comfortable silence spreads between them.
It's nice to have company. And it's nice to be understood without words, they both think.
A bird calls. Its mate sings back.
Bloom looks up to watch their dance. Beautiful.
Bloom settles on the forest floor with a sigh. He can still see the flickering of the party's fire where they've set up camp for the night. A warm, comforting glow.
Zorro curls up next to him, his head on Bloom's thigh who starts scratching the dog's ears absentmindedly, letting his thoughts drift. They play for a moment, with birds, weather, coming day, before settling on what they always seem to, lately.
"You know, Zorro, I keep looking at him. All the time. I don't know why. And when I'm doing something else I still think of him. It's strange."
Bensai glances at his friends sleeping peacefully. All but Bloom who seems to have disappeared. He has come to expect this from the elf and knows he will probably be back by morning.
He does, however, wonder where he slips off to when he isn't back by morning. He asked one time.
The reaction that got him was very interesting. He wouldn't ask again as not to pry. But. He won't soon forget how flustered Bloom was, caught off guard by the question.
He's curious. About more than just Bloom's secrets.
Could he get a similar reaction if he…? Well.