gratuitous violence; unnecessary, satisfying, heartbreaking
"Instinct, perhaps," Ronin murmurs, the leathery wings shifting and tucking in against his shoulders as if in silent explanation. "But I've also just seen a lot of death..." Stepping around the carcass, he gestures to the more violent lacerations, the charred flesh, the evidence of violence beyond the mere need to kill. "The creature that did this didn't go straight for the throat. Dragons usually do," he admits, sounding curious as well. "It toyed with it."
The bloody hand is explanation enough, Ronin reaching into his jacket and withdrawing a handkerchief, holding it out for Dorian. "The pleasure is mine. I'm just glad you're alright," he murmurs. If there was any suspicion in the Nova (and given the ups and downs of his life so far, there was), it melts away at the mention of Frey and the production of the rock.
"Oh - well," he says, a warmer smile blooming across his face and a few of the draconic plates morphing back beneath his skin. "How far have you gotten? If you keep following this ridge up, you'll come across Caido's Lighthouse."
The bloody hand is explanation enough, Ronin reaching into his jacket and withdrawing a handkerchief, holding it out for Dorian. "The pleasure is mine. I'm just glad you're alright," he murmurs. If there was any suspicion in the Nova (and given the ups and downs of his life so far, there was), it melts away at the mention of Frey and the production of the rock.
"Oh - well," he says, a warmer smile blooming across his face and a few of the draconic plates morphing back beneath his skin. "How far have you gotten? If you keep following this ridge up, you'll come across Caido's Lighthouse."
RONIN
