It's a cold cold world out there

REMI

the alchemist

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

Morgan might have thought the climate in Halo was just fine, but Remi didn't think he was overstepping by suggesting the meeting be held somewhere more temperate. And, if it came to it, he'd happily claim responsibility for any number of reasons. His sun-kissed Torchline skin wasn't cut out for the cold anymore. That, and he had absolutely no desire to bump into any of the many Launceleyns parading about (so he assumed).

He didn't much want to be in the Hollowed Grounds either after LongNight, but Torchline, on the cusp of monsoon season, wasn't really an optimal place either.

So here he was, gazing up at the Temple with a look of unhappy weariness.

Remi had no idea who Morgan was, knew Evie by sight alone. Whoever was leading the fae (Nephele) was unknown to him too. He could only hope his raven reached them and that, despite unhappy histories, they'd join just the same. Maru had opted to say at home, having little to do with the grievances of airbreathers in this matter, though Remi said he'd pass along any important information which was discussed.

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!