RONIN
What an unusual afternoon, that Ronin finds he has some time to kill. Of course, it's never really killing time when it's time spent finding out more about the city in which he's chosen to live, especially when it's to do with that city's defences. The Star had heard about 'hand mines' from a few of the Dragoons, and though it had piqued his curiosity (in a kind of what the fuck way), he's reserved his judgement until he can investigate for himself.
And so that's how the bright and breezy Flowerbirth day finds him; Sugar soars overhead, swooping and diving and generally practicing the rotations she and her bonded have been working on while they train, and Ronin kneels in the dirt. "Where are you," he wonders about the hand mines, fingers brushing over the earth as if he might reveal one of the strange and sentient stones.
It might well be a fruitless exercise, given that he isn't an abandoned and thus stands no chance at drawing one of the mines' attention, but still. Ronin is nothing if not committed.
And so that's how the bright and breezy Flowerbirth day finds him; Sugar soars overhead, swooping and diving and generally practicing the rotations she and her bonded have been working on while they train, and Ronin kneels in the dirt. "Where are you," he wonders about the hand mines, fingers brushing over the earth as if he might reveal one of the strange and sentient stones.
It might well be a fruitless exercise, given that he isn't an abandoned and thus stands no chance at drawing one of the mines' attention, but still. Ronin is nothing if not committed.
one more wish for you
