an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth
a knife for the ribs
a knife for the ribs
Ronin had arranged Remi's letters - the one he'd written himself, the one Ronin had written him, and a few other pieces of comparatively pointless mail which had arrived on the wings of a raven as the alchemist was leaving, placing them neatly on the bed for him to peruse once he came home. And then, to pass the time, Ronin had begun to construct a lantern.
A simple affair in terms of structure (it is for Sera and he thinks she would approve), he is just about to paint it in vibrant inks when Remi's screams ring through the houseboat's open window. And, knocking a pot of blue ink across the kitchen table, the Huntsman is an instant slave to instinct in response to the sound.
And, in short, that's how he finds himself tearing through Ludo's woods in pursuit of his husband, black scales flecking his face and neck and glowing antlers curving from his forehead. "Remi!" he calls, giving not one single fuck about who hears him.
A simple affair in terms of structure (it is for Sera and he thinks she would approve), he is just about to paint it in vibrant inks when Remi's screams ring through the houseboat's open window. And, knocking a pot of blue ink across the kitchen table, the Huntsman is an instant slave to instinct in response to the sound.
And, in short, that's how he finds himself tearing through Ludo's woods in pursuit of his husband, black scales flecking his face and neck and glowing antlers curving from his forehead. "Remi!" he calls, giving not one single fuck about who hears him.
RONIN
