we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
It's ironic, though Ronin doesn't yet know why, that he's just recently returned from the Greatwood after his meeting with Deimos and Remi. Sleep doesn't come as easily as it should, and he rises early to go for a run, as is his custom at Leafchange. Returning having burned off far too little of the pent up energy that electrifies his bones and dulls common sense, the Knight nonetheless showers, puts on a pot of coffee, and heads out to survey the early morning as it cascades golden light across Torchline's shores.
His mind ticks over various plans and possibilities; how they get Sunjata to Halo's hotsprings; what they might do about the void now that the infection has been cleared from formerly ruined regions; how to talk to Flora about her recent choicees and their political implications. You know what he isn't thinking about, though? Death.
His mind ticks over various plans and possibilities; how they get Sunjata to Halo's hotsprings; what they might do about the void now that the infection has been cleared from formerly ruined regions; how to talk to Flora about her recent choicees and their political implications. You know what he isn't thinking about, though? Death.
THE WHITE KNIGHT
and continue fighting
