RONIN
the white knight
"Oh, please - call me Ronin," the Knight gushes, flapping a hand playfully at Hadama as if to say that such formalities aren't necessary. Ah, but then his fellow demigod is settling into a stance that is intimately familiar for the former soldier, and Ronin feels his shoulders relax even as his own hands close into fists. "My personal preference," he agrees with a roguish wink, glancing around at the beach - the slope towards the sea, the evenness of the sand, the potential obstacles - before giving a swift nod and proceeding.
Since Hadama is already in a defensive posture - and is much, much taller than the Knight besides - Ronin doesn't feel guilty about lancing forward in a spray of sand, attempting to catch Hadama in the shortribs and potentially drive the breath from his lungs. "I never would have taken you for a bare knuckle boxer," he comments.
Since Hadama is already in a defensive posture - and is much, much taller than the Knight besides - Ronin doesn't feel guilty about lancing forward in a spray of sand, attempting to catch Hadama in the shortribs and potentially drive the breath from his lungs. "I never would have taken you for a bare knuckle boxer," he comments.
