there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory
At first Ronin only listens, his body statuesque in the water despite the way his fingers flinch beneath the surface, and as Safrin continues, his brows furrow together. The thought bursts forth without his conscious contribution, a whisper of have they forgotten what we did for them that will, of course, not only be laid bare for Safrin to read, but is likely just the sort of thing she's getting at. (Not that he's caught up to that just yet).
"I see," he murmurs, swaying forward a touch with the pull of the tide, his hands slowly clenching into fists beneath the waves now. "So she did not win the leadership contest?" It's only half an assumption, because he imagines the beaches would be full of talk about her when they arrived, not to mention what Flora herself might have done to announce such an achievement.
"Is that why she came to see you?"
"I see," he murmurs, swaying forward a touch with the pull of the tide, his hands slowly clenching into fists beneath the waves now. "So she did not win the leadership contest?" It's only half an assumption, because he imagines the beaches would be full of talk about her when they arrived, not to mention what Flora herself might have done to announce such an achievement.
"Is that why she came to see you?"
RONIN
