RONIN
the white knight
"It's no problem - any excuse to burn off a bit of extra energy," Ronin assures Zavien, his steps sure and practiced as they head from shifting sands to soft grasses up towards the Aumakua. The place is as sacred and familiar to him now as it was when he was one of Safrin's chosen, especially now that his meetings with the goddess don't tend to end with creative punishment or awkward blackmail. "And I promise, no dragons this time."
Grinning and nodding agreeably at the patch of grass he's chosen, Ronin rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles. "Works for me. How do you want to do this? A typical spar, or is there something in particular you want to work on?" For the Knight's part, all of the unspoken things that burn in his blood are very carefully packaged away; it never bodes well to let his more unreasonable nature out around those who are unused to it.
Grinning and nodding agreeably at the patch of grass he's chosen, Ronin rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles. "Works for me. How do you want to do this? A typical spar, or is there something in particular you want to work on?" For the Knight's part, all of the unspoken things that burn in his blood are very carefully packaged away; it never bodes well to let his more unreasonable nature out around those who are unused to it.
i'll get over it
i just gotta be dramatic first
i just gotta be dramatic first
