tell her to find me an acre of land

let's not get lost in the dark blue

Remi exhales a slow breath, his fingers still tracing absent patterns against the wood beneath him. "Ronin’s infected," he says simply, without preamble, because what use is there in softening the truth? His voice is steady, measured, but there’s no mistaking the weight of it, the way it presses into the space between them like a gathering storm. "Mort thinks Vi might be willing to give me a rose if I complete a few tasks first."

The mention of "the queen of Torchline" earns the faintest twitch of his lips, more bemused than amused, though his tone remains neutral. "She has a name, you know," he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. "I would know, seeing as I gave it to her." His fingers tap idly against the bench, considering. "I've been on Flora's bad side often enough to know it isn’t a nice place to be. I wish you luck," he adds, though there's no real judgment in his voice, just understanding. Whatever it was that had soured things between Maea and Flora, it wasn’t his business to pry, not least of all because his track record with the Doubletake was probably worse than Maea's was.

At the mention of the storm, however, his brows knit together, concern creeping into his expression. "You’ve only been staying in a camp?" That, more than anything else, seems to throw him. Remi pauses, thinking back to the places he once knew in the Greatwood, the ones that might still stand. "There’s the guardian’s treehouse," he says after a moment, glancing toward her. "I built it with Juniper, years ago. It was still in good shape the last time I checked. You’d be welcome to it, if you wanted." His gaze lingers on her, quiet and steady. "I could bring you there now, if you’d like to see for yourself."

But darling if we do, just find me, and I'll find you