the things we hold are always the first to go
Nibbling at every extra chin for good measure, Ronin pauses only to join Remi in sipping his coffee. "I might be," he mumbles, about still being drunk. "Although I doubt it, because nothing has gotten dramatic or flamboyant yet," he adds. He'd be trying to climb into Remi's pants by now, or rearranging their cupboards or something equally as stupid.
Relaxing bonelessly against his husband, he wrinkles his nose and nods gently about Torchline. "I went to visit Maeve, to do something with a bow she got from Safrin. One that shoots stars," he murmurs, but this is about the seasons, not about the weapon that could have killed him but can't any more.
"She sent me a letter a couple of days ago - apparently it's because someone built a shrine to the Eirachi in Torchline. She asked for my help in destroying it." He sounds mildly surprised about it, like he's only just remembered.
Relaxing bonelessly against his husband, he wrinkles his nose and nods gently about Torchline. "I went to visit Maeve, to do something with a bow she got from Safrin. One that shoots stars," he murmurs, but this is about the seasons, not about the weapon that could have killed him but can't any more.
"She sent me a letter a couple of days ago - apparently it's because someone built a shrine to the Eirachi in Torchline. She asked for my help in destroying it." He sounds mildly surprised about it, like he's only just remembered.
