'What, alcohol? Exercise?' Ronin might have godly strength but the dragoons absolutely didn't. Real training could simply bleed into dream-training. The thought of Ronin surrounded by a bunch of dragoons, each fighting for a piece of him that they might be taken into his dreams makes her laugh.
Tilting her chin up with her head slightly to the side as if encouraging him to whisper all of this in her ear, the goddess slips her hand around Ronin's neck where her fingers press gently beneath his collar. His muscles will relax as tension bleeds out of him; positive reinforcement, and all that. "And how ought I to be seen?" Safrin wonders, and though she hasn't moved and nor has he, she's somehow closer to him now, the white silk of her dress softly billowing against him.
Tilting her chin up with her head slightly to the side as if encouraging him to whisper all of this in her ear, the goddess slips her hand around Ronin's neck where her fingers press gently beneath his collar. His muscles will relax as tension bleeds out of him; positive reinforcement, and all that. "And how ought I to be seen?" Safrin wonders, and though she hasn't moved and nor has he, she's somehow closer to him now, the white silk of her dress softly billowing against him.
