Summary: It do be warm-

Warm embers fluttered across the land, quelling the autumn chill permeating the air.

Ink hummed contently. All the while, shuffling closer to the source of the flames and tugging the hand-made quilt - that he definitely didn't steal from the Anti-Void when Error wasn't looking - tighter around himself.

After a long day of work, he certainly needed this relaxing moment. The peace. The quiet. The lack of Nightmare and his gang getting up to their usual fall shenanigans- i.e., haunting people (which the Guardian of AUs sorely wished he could join in on- He'd be great at it!), leaving black and orange glitter littered about the universes, placing black cats on every path, and a plethora of other nonsensical things that took forever to clean up.

The only thing preventing his afternoon leisure from being perfect was his lack of marshmallows. Not that any stores would have sold them to him, anyway. (Dream had made it very clear to every AU that Ink and sugar were not to be within the same room. Ever.)

A pout rested on the soulless skeleton's face. "Such a meanie... I'm not that bad when I eat sugar- Well, I guess there was that one time I ran through the alternate universes and painted spider legs on all the cats' faces...." A delighted grin replaced his pout at the fond - torturous for everyone else - memory. "The world just wasn't ready for my genius!"

Alas, his rare moment of reminiscing got cut short by a piercing scream.

"INK!"

The artist startled, eye sockets instantly widening- his mismatched eyelights set in shades of worry and flickering between various shapes. He nervously turned, watching a frantic Dream speedily approach from the distance.

"WHY IS THE HOUSE ON FIRE!? DO SOMETHING!" The yellow-clad guardian demanded. A yellow blush covered his alarmed face, and his labored breaths gave away the exhaustion the run left him with.

Ink grinned, waving as his fellow Star Sans came to a halt beside him. "Oh! Hey, Dream!"

"Don't 'Hey, Dream' me! Quit standing around and put out this fire!" Dream hissed before he pulled out his phone and desperately pressed a series of numbers.

A frown tugged at the corners of the artist's teeth. "But it's cold without it-"

"It's cold without-" The Guardian of Positivity unleashed a deep sigh, then growled, "Ink, you could have just turned up the heat on the thermostat!"

"The matches were closer-"