hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end
The tune Remi whistles is not the one that calls the wagon, though he's confident that the Woods won't let him stroll along on his own too long. Though it has been raining for hours now, by the time the water permeates through the thick canopy overhead it's nothing more than a light drizzle—and after the waterlogged days spent in Torchline, Remi doesn't mind this at all.
Though the rest of the world feels like a clusterfuck of inconvenience, here in the Greatwood at least, Remi feels as though he has his bearings. Vai is back, there are those who have pledged to help the alchemist with his tasks, and despite the murderous nature of the Woods, at least Remi knows what to expect from her. There is no Eye watching him (wrong), no stopwatch keeping track of his progress (wrong), and nothing but the predictable unpredictability of nature all around him (also wrong).
Though the rest of the world feels like a clusterfuck of inconvenience, here in the Greatwood at least, Remi feels as though he has his bearings. Vai is back, there are those who have pledged to help the alchemist with his tasks, and despite the murderous nature of the Woods, at least Remi knows what to expect from her. There is no Eye watching him (wrong), no stopwatch keeping track of his progress (wrong), and nothing but the predictable unpredictability of nature all around him (also wrong).
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
