there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters
A shadow passes overhead.
White dragons are probably more common in Halo's skies than ever, but this is different. It isn't a white underbelly that soars over Deimos and his entourage, but a spray of stars on inky midnight. Ronin hasn't even seen the hellhound yet - his eyes are on a lonely flock up ahead.
He doesn't know why the ningo gather like this; either they're stupid or Ronin is accidentally poaching from a ningo farm, in which case oops, sorry. Either way, as the dragon drops towards the round and fluffy birds, it shrinks in shape until it's a man dropping from the sky.
Caught by a nimbus seemingly at the last second, Ronin unleashes a swift starbolt, spearing it into the nearest ningo. It goes down in a pmphh of feathers.
White dragons are probably more common in Halo's skies than ever, but this is different. It isn't a white underbelly that soars over Deimos and his entourage, but a spray of stars on inky midnight. Ronin hasn't even seen the hellhound yet - his eyes are on a lonely flock up ahead.
He doesn't know why the ningo gather like this; either they're stupid or Ronin is accidentally poaching from a ningo farm, in which case oops, sorry. Either way, as the dragon drops towards the round and fluffy birds, it shrinks in shape until it's a man dropping from the sky.
Caught by a nimbus seemingly at the last second, Ronin unleashes a swift starbolt, spearing it into the nearest ningo. It goes down in a pmphh of feathers.
ronin
