and on to the glory at my right hand
"So do I," Ronin murmurs, his voice almost lost in the quiet of the falling snow. Sunjata and Nate aren't the only ones he wishes it for, but that goes unsaid. Instead he tilts his head up at the tower ruins, shaking his head as if to say he can only guess at the motives behind any attack, let alone one on a place with no people. "A warning, perhaps. This is what could have been." Wrinkling his nose, he happily dismisses that subject for another one.
Unfortunately, the one his daughter chooses is him, and Ronin wishes he still had his scarf covering his nose and mouth to hide the darkness in his expression. "I have been better," he murmurs, giving her another squeeze and turning to walk them away from the tower if Seren allows; he doesn't really want to look on rubble any longer. "And you are always on the move," he says. There's nothing in Ronin's tone - no accusation, no anger, just the truth of it.
"I didn't know where you were, to send a raven. I'm sorry I couldn't let you know before it happened, though."
Unfortunately, the one his daughter chooses is him, and Ronin wishes he still had his scarf covering his nose and mouth to hide the darkness in his expression. "I have been better," he murmurs, giving her another squeeze and turning to walk them away from the tower if Seren allows; he doesn't really want to look on rubble any longer. "And you are always on the move," he says. There's nothing in Ronin's tone - no accusation, no anger, just the truth of it.
"I didn't know where you were, to send a raven. I'm sorry I couldn't let you know before it happened, though."
ronin
