[SE] a matter of strategy

we are like birds of a feather, we are two hearts thrown together

Groaning unhappily as Ronin pulls away, Remi might have suggested that they just keep quiet and pretend that the office was empty until Ronin called out a reply. "I hate your sense of duty and your work ethic." The Lullaby complains sweetly. Sliding off the desk, he trots a step or two to reach Ronin and quickly pick-pockets his compass away from him, before shifting into a small ball of pale feathers and wings.

One of us has a lot of making up to the other. He says, peering up at Ronin. One might think it was Ronin given that it was his work which was interrupting their Afternoon Delight, but in reality, it was probably still Remi. It would probably always be Remi.

Just remember, the longer you take, the longer I have to be upset about it. The hawk warns; more time = more tentacles. Rising into the air the hawk slips out of Ronin's open window and towards the postoffice that the might send off the compass to Torchline.

~FIN

THE ALCHEMIST

we will be forever as one, my brother under the sun