you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones
"But she did always love the braid when it was finished," Ronin says with a small smirk at the memory, having settled to lay back amongst the furs now, though his fingers still tease through the alchemist's curls and down along his jawline.
"Fiadh was kind enough to donate some," he says of the feathers, smirking as he glances over the tell-tale colourings of a red kite. "By donate, obviously I mean I caught her sneaking around trying to pilfer food, and I snagged a handful of feathers as she flew off." They'd feed her if only she knocked directly, but Ronin suspects she enjoys the game of cat and mouse (or dragon and bird, as it happens).
Inhaling deeply and letting the breath go such that he can sink fully into their makeshift bed, his eyes close to enjoy the relative silence, however much tension grief might bring with it.
"Fiadh was kind enough to donate some," he says of the feathers, smirking as he glances over the tell-tale colourings of a red kite. "By donate, obviously I mean I caught her sneaking around trying to pilfer food, and I snagged a handful of feathers as she flew off." They'd feed her if only she knocked directly, but Ronin suspects she enjoys the game of cat and mouse (or dragon and bird, as it happens).
Inhaling deeply and letting the breath go such that he can sink fully into their makeshift bed, his eyes close to enjoy the relative silence, however much tension grief might bring with it.
RONIN
