and on to the glory at my right hand
Ronin awakens and Remi is gone. He expects him to be, honestly - after the panicked exclamation that something is wrong during his meeting with Hotaru, after the fits and starts of sleep, the Huntsman knew his bed would be empty when he stirred. It still hurts, but it isn't surprising. And so rather than getting depressed, he gets busy. (Or at least, he gets busy so he doesn't show that he's depressed).
This morning's work involves sanding down wood that will eventually form their kitchen counters, Ronin having borrowed tools from the Sea of Branches, a Fae being kind enough to show him how to use it without having to worry about brute strength destroying both tree and sander. And so the methodical scrape of a blade on the wood accompanies birdsong and the rustle of the breeze, Ronin pausing only every now and then to shake out his hand.
The ring on his finger has been beating hard and fast enough to be a distraction, and while he wants to take it off so it doesn't keep reminding him of things he cannot control, he also can't bear to. So he simply continues to work, his fingernails itchy, something raw buzzing away deep in his throat.
This morning's work involves sanding down wood that will eventually form their kitchen counters, Ronin having borrowed tools from the Sea of Branches, a Fae being kind enough to show him how to use it without having to worry about brute strength destroying both tree and sander. And so the methodical scrape of a blade on the wood accompanies birdsong and the rustle of the breeze, Ronin pausing only every now and then to shake out his hand.
The ring on his finger has been beating hard and fast enough to be a distraction, and while he wants to take it off so it doesn't keep reminding him of things he cannot control, he also can't bear to. So he simply continues to work, his fingernails itchy, something raw buzzing away deep in his throat.
ronin
