He closed his book, a soft thump echoing in the silent room, and looks down at the boy laying next to him. "Time for bed, Avon."

"Just another minute," the boy licks his finger and turns the page. "I'm almost done with the chapter."

"No sir, I gave you another 'minute', thirty minutes ago." He reaches down and pokes him in the belly. "Close the book and get in bed."

"I'm going to, Puri." The boy doesn't so much as spare him a glance. "In a minute."

"Okay, one more minute, so read fast."

The boy nodded, flipping the page again, and the Power counted down his bargained minute. It came and went. "Okay, that was your last minute, time for bed." He reaches over and lifts the book from his boy's hands, marking the page, and closed the book to set on top of his own on the small table next to him. He looks up at him, pouting lightly. "Awe, but Puri, it was just getting good!"

"And, it'll be just as good tomorrow."

"Why can't I just finish it now?" His boy reaches up to curl his fingers around his wrist. "I don't have training in the morning, it's the day of rest."

"Because you still need to get a good night's rest."

"I'm not even tired, though!"

Puriel smiles down at him, curling his own fingers around his thin wrist, pulling his arm up. "Let's fix that, then." And pokes a finger into his revealed underarm.

Donavon giggles, tugging at his arm, against the Power's unbreakable grip around his wrist. The elder wiggles his finger in his underarm and the youth's giggles grow in quantity. "How about now, are you tired now?"

Through his giggles, he manages a quick shake of his head, shrieking in surprise when the Power spiders his fingers down his side instead. "Okay, we'll keep trying." He lets go of his arm, leaning forward to fold his hand up under his tunic, fingers press into his bare belly. It shakes with giggles. "How about now?" He digs in sharply, the boy shrieks again, pressing his head back against the mattress underneath him, arching his back at the sensation. "Nohohoho!"

"Shame." The tone in which it's said gives way to the notion that he is not anything less them amused in his admittance. Puriel catches one of his kicking feet, curling his fingers around his ankle, he pulls the foot up closer. Donavon turns with the tugging on his foot, sprawled out facing the end of the bed, his arm laying limply over the Power's crossed ankles. "How about these little feet?" He strokes a finger down the length of his sole and he gives a bright peal of laughter, ten fingers dig in and he arches his back again, tugging desperately at his foot, especially with fingers poke at his toes. "My feheheheet ahahahare nohohot lihihihittle!"

"No," the Power scratches a finger over the arch of his foot, and he jerks, laughing brightly at the sensation. "You don't call this a little foot?" He leans forward to run his fingers over the underside of his knee, Donavon shrieks again and tries to twist his leg away, it doesn't get very far. "It's teeny tiny."

Later, he would claim it was from desperation, when he turned onto his side and dug his own fingers into one of the Power's feet next to him. Puriel yelps, yanking his feet back, and his fingers tighten around his ankle. "You did not." Donavon screams in laughter when he presses his lips to his foot, pressing a kiss to the middle of his foot, the stubble of his light beard making him squeal in laughter. "It's a good thing you took a bath before bed, or this would have been gross." He takes a deep breath and blows a raspberry against his sole, Donavon squeals again, twisting over onto his side. Puriel slowly lowers his own feet back down to rest at the end of the bed, crossing at the ankles, and he curls his fingers around his ankle as a means of bracing himself when he hears him take another breath, just before another raspberry is blown into his sole.

"This is a good position, for me, perhaps not for you." He curls one of his legs over his shoulders, pulling him down to rest on his stomach, and leans forward again. There's no giggles, no bright peals of laughter, Donavon just squeals brightly, and then he breaks into uproarious peals of laughter, as he digs into the meat of his thigh. Spidering the fingers of his right hand over the sensitive skin that rests on the underside of his thigh, before dipping them inwards, pinching at the inner thigh lightly. "How about now, Avon, are you sleepy yet?"

He nods, oh how he nods, squealing brightly and kicking out, arms wrapped tightly around the Power's other ankle. "Yehehehehehehes! I'm—I'm sleheheheheepy!"

"Will you be a good little angel, and go to bed like I told you to?"

"Yeheheheheesss!"

Chuckling, the medic of the Powers pulls his leg away, releasing the youth from his imprisonment, and crosses his ankles again. Donavon giggles breathlessly still, curling up on himself, pulling his legs up and away from his reach. Leaning forward, Puriel rubs a hand over the side of his head, tugging lightly at the ends of his hair. "Come on, turn around, we'll get some sleep now."

Slowly, carefully, his little warrior turns, crawling up to lay against him on his bed. Donavon's got his own next to his, but he's not a mean one, he'll let him curl up and sleep here after such a brutal attack. He giggles lightly still, against his side, and he strokes his fingers through his hair. "Maybe next time, you'll just do as I say, and go to bed."

"That was fun!"

"I'm glad you had fun." He settles down next to him, raising his arm, allowing to boy to settle closer. His head resting in the crook of his shoulder, fingers curling lightly into the tunic over his chest, Donavon settles down comfortably. "What are we doing tomorrow, Avon?"

"Can we go see the Rain Forest?"

"Sure, we can do that."