arms give away your need
Okay, so he hasn't written ahead. And he doesn't know where the Warden conducts most of his business these days (you know, given that Ronin last met him out on the Tundra). But sue him; after an impromptu snowball fight with Talyson, the afternoon is beginning to bleed into evening and the Huntsman is still at the Kraai long after the courier has to leave. Once upon a time would have found him in cheerful conversation with acquaintance and stranger alike, perhaps even pleasantly buzzed and paying a bard for a song or playing cards and bartering for trinkets.
Alas, the time and distance since the war - not to mention the scars, both visible and otherwise, that mark his skin - have turned him into a creature somewhat more subdued. And so like any typical mysterious stranger at an unfamiliar bar looking at you, Aragorn, Ronin finds himself seated at an out of the way table. He's close enough to the action, for lack of better word, that he can feel involved without having to speak up, but far enough back to keep himself to himself.
And with a mug of mulled wine to warm his bones, too, he can think of worse ways to spend his evening.
Alas, the time and distance since the war - not to mention the scars, both visible and otherwise, that mark his skin - have turned him into a creature somewhat more subdued. And so like any typical mysterious stranger at an unfamiliar bar looking at you, Aragorn, Ronin finds himself seated at an out of the way table. He's close enough to the action, for lack of better word, that he can feel involved without having to speak up, but far enough back to keep himself to himself.
And with a mug of mulled wine to warm his bones, too, he can think of worse ways to spend his evening.
tie them up and around me
and play me as you please
RONIN
