wrap myself around your bones

we are like birds of a feather, we are two hearts thrown together

"Well, you just tell me where you would like them to stick and I will happily oblige. Remi silently trills, knowing full well Ronin's answer will be nowhere near me. Darkness consumes him, and though his instincts are unhappily riled by this, Remi is more than content enough to swallow down the rising panic.

"In the dream you sailed home on a river made of stars, and we lived in a treehouse comprised of sentient vines." The alchemist muses, his mental voice tinged with a smile his beak can't manage. "But yes, this is much better." And he does mean that, in a way likely only Ronin will understand. The dream world offers the pair anything they might want. Any setting, any eventuality, any outcome. But never, ever, is it as good as reality.

I absolutely would like that. The hawk shamelessly agrees. Cooked food in his various predatory forms tastes like poison and concern. It sets off alarm bells of panic in the back of his mind, for why else unless under duress or utmost necessity, would a manticore or hawk feed on something it hadn't killed itself? How was Halo? Any rebellions or uprisings while you were there? Remi wonders, only half kidding.

THE ALCHEMIST

we will be forever as one, my brother under the sun