Strax disentangled himself from the tangle of arms with minimal effort—not because they didn't want to let go, but because they all knew that specific gesture. The way he leaned forward, the tired half-smile, the hand brushing the back of his neck.
It was the universal signal of "I need to sit down before things get worse."
He walked to the wide sofa against the side wall of the room, a piece of furniture clearly stolen from some noble mansion during a past campaign. He sank into it with a long, almost theatrical sigh.
He wasn't alone for a second.
Rogue was the first to sit, throwing herself sideways, legs over his without asking permission. Cassandra occupied the other side, resting her shoulder against his as if silently marking her territory. Daniela sat on the arm of the sofa, resting her elbow on Strax's head, while Bellatrix sat behind, leaning against the backrest, hands lightly resting on his shoulders.
A nest.
Literally.
Strax looked at the ceiling for a moment.
