RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Ronin barely remembers to roll the clay cup in his hands to keep them from burning, even as his eyes continue to drink in the scene around them; the sun dappled ground, the creatures in harmony, Mort in all his youthful wonder. The god's answer both does and doesn't help, and it's only the tug of something deep within him that stops him from gushing a hundred inane questions, ones that the deity has probably already heard.
"I... Oh," he says, inhaling deeply and taking a sip of tea to gather himself, feeling instantly soothed by the warm liquid. "Thank you for seeing me," he says, lowering the cup - and his gaze. "I was hoping I could speak to you about Remi. He mentioned meeting you before, and I have never seen him so at peace. But it never lasts. The peace, I mean."
"I... Oh," he says, inhaling deeply and taking a sip of tea to gather himself, feeling instantly soothed by the warm liquid. "Thank you for seeing me," he says, lowering the cup - and his gaze. "I was hoping I could speak to you about Remi. He mentioned meeting you before, and I have never seen him so at peace. But it never lasts. The peace, I mean."
show me your darkness.
