you're my guiding light, when there's no guiding light left inside
Remi is lucky, and Ronin has not been expecting a hawk to come spearing down out of the sky. So in that curious way that minds sometimes do, he completely ignores any sign or sound of the bird, glancing up only at the sound of the door. Assuming that he's just missed the Lullaby's approach, Ronin offers his husband a warm and lovestruck smile, setting down his cider so he can better help Remi out of his snow-laden clothes.
"Not any more," he assures him, kissing the cold from the apples of his cheeks, hanging up his jacket for him and dusting the snow from his hair. As wild as Leafchange makes the Huntsman, the coldest season renders him docile and domestic, and so it's likely no surprise to Remi that Ronin is already trying to sneak a smooch to his lips as well.
"How did it go?" he asks. "There's cider, or soup if you're hungry."
"Not any more," he assures him, kissing the cold from the apples of his cheeks, hanging up his jacket for him and dusting the snow from his hair. As wild as Leafchange makes the Huntsman, the coldest season renders him docile and domestic, and so it's likely no surprise to Remi that Ronin is already trying to sneak a smooch to his lips as well.
"How did it go?" he asks. "There's cider, or soup if you're hungry."
RONIN
