we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
"It's not going to start any either at least," Ronin calls back after spluttering his way to a clean breath of air, thoroughly soaked and grinning at his husband as he pops up in the shallows like a tentacled siren. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you dealt with most of it." He gestures at the drenched sands and foliage, the air clogging with smoke but with very few active flames. Those that remain are being promptly dealt with by Sugar, the little dragon pausing to chirrup her amusement at Ronin's misfortune every now and then - as is her right.
Getting himself to his feet once he's sure he's not going to be swept away by another rogue wave, Ronin drags his shirt over his head so he can rinse most of the seawater from it, sweeping his hair back out of his face. "That was pretty refreshing once I knew I wasn't going to drown," he adds. "C'mon, hero. I think it's safe for you to come to shore now."
Getting himself to his feet once he's sure he's not going to be swept away by another rogue wave, Ronin drags his shirt over his head so he can rinse most of the seawater from it, sweeping his hair back out of his face. "That was pretty refreshing once I knew I wasn't going to drown," he adds. "C'mon, hero. I think it's safe for you to come to shore now."
THE WHITE KNIGHT
and continue fighting
