where the wild things are

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

Wanting very much to go to the Huntsman, to wrap his arms around his waist and reassure him that everything will be okay with kisses and soft touches, Remi knows better. So instead he stands, quietly confident. "And if you can't, then you will find yourself in a dream, bound up with tentacles and forces to watch me drink wine with bits of soggy bread in it as your punishment."

As Ronin does what Remi couldn't, the alchemist sags adoringly into his husband's arms. "I love you most." He whispers back, very briefly wanting to suggest a quick roll in the hay to rid Ronin of some of his energy. Shaking away the thoughts, Ronin will find Remi's cheek round and ready for his kiss.

Stepping back a few paces, the alchemist positions himself cagely behind a rather large and towering oak tree. "Alright then lizard-breath. Let's see what you've got." In his curls, Oria gives his head a part of warning not to let his guard down.