we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
A study in opposites, as Salt bristles with defensiveness and aggression, Ronin stands shaking out his partial shift, his limbs loose and relaxed, a puzzled sort of smile on his face. Only as she speaks does he glance up, thankfully fully human once more. "Oh - sort of?" he says a touch bashfully. It's saying something that he's kind of used to people knowing who he is these days, because it saves him the embarrassment of saying who and what he is out loud.
"I'm Safrin's demigod," he explains, wishing it sounded less pretentious. "Being able to shift into a dragon is one of the gifts she bestowed to me." It's got a starry belly, he wants to add, as if that will make it seem less... like a dragon. "We can stop, in that case. For what it's worth, I couldn't tell," he says of her injury. "Glad I could help you warm back up."
"I'm Safrin's demigod," he explains, wishing it sounded less pretentious. "Being able to shift into a dragon is one of the gifts she bestowed to me." It's got a starry belly, he wants to add, as if that will make it seem less... like a dragon. "We can stop, in that case. For what it's worth, I couldn't tell," he says of her injury. "Glad I could help you warm back up."
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
