sweet child o’ mine

i've got a river for a soul

"And you're telling me that this would really help you? Feathers from Vanya and I growing dirty in the sands, the light from a ring that will never brighten anything more than these rocks?" He didn't believe it, but then, Ronin was still clambering towards healing in a way that Remi had long given up.

"Do I." Again, not a question. Remi didn't even look wounded. If anything, in a sick and twisted way he looked somehow validated. Pleased. "Then you don't need me for this."