Matters of the Soul

With his nose in a book, Remi hardly heard Sam come in. Then again, with all the recent comings and goings in preparation for LongNight, the alchemist didn't pay much attention to the sounds made on the lower floor of the guildhall. Still, he hadn't really been expecting company, which is why when he returned to the greatroom to re-take his place by the fire, he was only wearing loosely fitting pants slung low on his hips, adorned with dragons and stars and all the other silly siguls that made up his private wardrobe with Ronin. Nearly walking right by Sam before noticing him, the alchemist lowered his book and fixed the bookmaker with a surprised stare. "I forgot how quiet you could be." He chuckled warmly, before his expression shattered noticing the state of his friend's attire: bloodied, torn, and dirty. None of which were usually words he'd describe his friend's outfits. "Are you alright?" remi Too long till I drown in your hands