I swear I still believe but I don't know
Flying home is about all Ronin is capable of, in truth, and though the journey is short, each beat of his wings threatens to wrench further at the deep gouges against his shoulder and collarbone. He hasn't considered going to the healing fountain, which probably would have been a good idea. Hasn't considered going anywhere except right to his husband, because whilst violet light still flows electric in his veins and he can feel the press of Dahlia's lips like a whisper of silk on the breeze, not even an infection from the Family can keep the Knight from doing what instinct demands.
Landing clumsily to say the least, he almost topples into the dark, cold waters. Luckily - and unaware of Isla's coming and going even by scent, given the iron that hangs in the air from his own blood - Ronin manages to right himself enough to fumble for their front door with a red-slick hand, the other arm clamped around his middle to hopefully keep his inside on the inside for a little longer. "Remi?" he croaks. "Trouble."
Landing clumsily to say the least, he almost topples into the dark, cold waters. Luckily - and unaware of Isla's coming and going even by scent, given the iron that hangs in the air from his own blood - Ronin manages to right himself enough to fumble for their front door with a red-slick hand, the other arm clamped around his middle to hopefully keep his inside on the inside for a little longer. "Remi?" he croaks. "Trouble."
the white knight
