we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
Ronin grumbles something incoherent as if to say that if anyone could make things weird, it's Sunjata, but honestly, with his face buried in the Flood's lap, it's dark and quiet and he can try to ignore the horror show his life has become for a while. The alcohol helps a great deal too, of course, and he hums out a sigh and shifts only when he feels something covering him. Smirking, however fleetingly, as he learns it's a feathered wing, his eyes slip shut in time to hear Sunjata speak.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, like the other man is sending him to bed early and this isn't entirely Ronin's own choice. It takes some time before the Star even begins to relax, though, but when sleep finally does come to seize him, he's boneless against the couch and against his friend, snoring softly into the room.
~FIN
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, like the other man is sending him to bed early and this isn't entirely Ronin's own choice. It takes some time before the Star even begins to relax, though, but when sleep finally does come to seize him, he's boneless against the couch and against his friend, snoring softly into the room.
~FIN
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
