[ME] Woods of the Rising Sun

Finding a blanket to sit upon was not a difficult affair, not with the preparations that the Fae had made beforehand. Once the festival looked as though it was winding down to this, Ronin had excused himself briefly, only to return with his daughter in his arms. Aoife was fresh from a nap, her starry eyes pinned on the heavens above, her chubby little fists buried in the fabric of her father's shirt. She cooed and babbled as Ronin got comfortable with her in his lap, and the hunter grinned, smoothing a hand through her mop of dark curls. "That's right," he murmured. "Not long to wait now." RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving