burning this out on our own

More enjoying his game of cat and mouse with the coral (where he is the leviathan-sized mouse and the coral has claws to slash him) than considering grabbing at it, Ronin rolls through the dark water enough to turn and glance back at his husband, all massive tentacles and lurking monstrosity. I would love to spar you, he says, and though there's amusement in his tone, it's impossible not to realise how serious the need might be, all things considered. Well, if I can't rely on my starbolts, I really ought to go back to basics anyway, he agrees, trying not to think about being clumsy, slow or those things too hard. Perhaps we can find some time to train hand-to-hand on the beach, or somewhere else on our travels. Twisting again to examine the coral and giving Remi the mental equivalent of scrunching his nose, the leviathan swims onwards. If only it could be a void-killing dagger, he laments. Speaking of which, do you see anything suspicious down here? ronin begin again, as the storm