Reverse bear trap

”Sturdy,” comes Ronin’s inevitable response, the word stretched by his smile. The Huntsman’s fingers are laced comfortably in his husband’s, and while the pulses of upset that warble along the Attuned bond speak of frenetic energy and thorny disappointment, Ronin’s thoughts are, by contrast, a deep, still pool for Remi to dive into. Having been out of the Cordillera much more than the Lullaby, the Greatwood is less shocking to him now than it had been on his first venture, and his steps are slow and sure as they make their way towards the village. Squeezing Remi’s hand and at the same time tugging him closer, Ronin attempts to silence whatever dry comment he knows is coming with his lips. ”And made of a lot of wood,” he adds as he draws back, waggling his eyebrows and turning his attention to the canopy of new leaves overhead. Drawing the smell of the woods into his lungs and holding it there for a moment, Ronin’s sign is one that drags his shoulders down and sends a relaxed ripple across the surface tension of his thoughts. ”Perhaps one that looks as though it grew into a table by chance?” RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.