the wounds are open and bleeding out
The crazy drunk has faced off against gods and monsters (and his sobriety was questionable then as well, at times), and Ronin forces himself to focus. "aN eXcHanGE oF nAMeS iS iN oRDer," he repeats, slurring and mocking all the while. "Ronin. Any more demands, your majesty?"
The other man is already stepping into the ring with him, and Ronin slowly sets the bottle of liquor down in the sand. Neos has already made his decision clear, by entering the fighting space, and honestly Ronin can't think of anything better than bruised knuckles and the taste of copper right now. "Less talk, more fight," he rumbles, shaking out his hands before slipping into an easy (if not somewhat clumsier than usual) defensive stance.
He motions for Neos to come at him, if that's what he wants to do.
The other man is already stepping into the ring with him, and Ronin slowly sets the bottle of liquor down in the sand. Neos has already made his decision clear, by entering the fighting space, and honestly Ronin can't think of anything better than bruised knuckles and the taste of copper right now. "Less talk, more fight," he rumbles, shaking out his hands before slipping into an easy (if not somewhat clumsier than usual) defensive stance.
He motions for Neos to come at him, if that's what he wants to do.
THE
DARK STAR
