Let's not get lost in the dark blue
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
Oria clambers down from Remi's curls with unmistakable annoyance, her leafy limbs fluttering as she tucks herself into the collar of his shirt. There, just beneath the damp fabric, she anchors like a burr and emits a tiny, indignant chirr. "Yes, alright, it’s very wet," Remi murmurs with a smirk, gently patting the lump she makes as she settles in, bristling faintly like a mossy pinecone with opinions.
By the time they reach the shelter of the Sidhe Village, Remi’s curls are soaked through and clinging to his forehead, his shirt marked darker by rain and the faint smears of loam. He shakes himself off only half-heartedly before sitting down at the long table with the others. A soft request for soup earns him a steaming bowl in short order.
"Wind’s usually not the problem," he says mildly, glancing toward Kaisel. "The trees keep most of it out. But once Deepfrost ends…" He lifts a hand and waggles it in the air. "Everything thaws at once, and almost everywhere you step it's into memory mud." His smile tilts, crooked and faintly conspiratorial.
By the time they reach the shelter of the Sidhe Village, Remi’s curls are soaked through and clinging to his forehead, his shirt marked darker by rain and the faint smears of loam. He shakes himself off only half-heartedly before sitting down at the long table with the others. A soft request for soup earns him a steaming bowl in short order.
"Wind’s usually not the problem," he says mildly, glancing toward Kaisel. "The trees keep most of it out. But once Deepfrost ends…" He lifts a hand and waggles it in the air. "Everything thaws at once, and almost everywhere you step it's into memory mud." His smile tilts, crooked and faintly conspiratorial.
the bastion
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
