the things we hold are always the first to go
Ronin isn't even aware of his husband's plans, but he's drawn to him like a magnet from an opposing pole, falling into the tracks left by the alchemist without ever even noticing it. The sentient vines don't try to bother him, though perhaps it would be nice if they would try to peel his shirt off - he's already starting to sweat in the humidity of the jungle as he prowls through it to his snarly other half.
When he finally does spot his husband, it'll be with a pulse of exhaustion and relief that Ronin plods towards him. "Gods, I have missed you today," he whispers, and he'll apologise later if he interrupts whatever thoughtful preparations the other man is in the middle of; the Huntsman moves to wrap himself straight up in Remi's arms, pushing his head into the darkness of his shoulder.
"It was a bad idea," he mumbles. "I tried my best, but it was a bad idea."
When he finally does spot his husband, it'll be with a pulse of exhaustion and relief that Ronin plods towards him. "Gods, I have missed you today," he whispers, and he'll apologise later if he interrupts whatever thoughtful preparations the other man is in the middle of; the Huntsman moves to wrap himself straight up in Remi's arms, pushing his head into the darkness of his shoulder.
"It was a bad idea," he mumbles. "I tried my best, but it was a bad idea."
