goodbye, yellow brick road

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving "I know." Ronin nodded solemnly. Damn right did he know. And this seemed a lot healthier than his old coping mechanism (i.e. having one too many and picking fights with anyone who looked like they might be able to throw a punch). "When you feel like doing this again next, let me in on it, yeah?" He shot a wry smile in her direction. Hurling stale loaves of bread off the Bone Bridge was unashamedly cathartic. Before he could reach for another loaf, Amalia had already thrown hers, Ronin pausing and glancing up as he heard her curse. His blue eyes softened a touch, losing some of their fire. "We never know what the future might bring," he said, though his tone seemed to suggest he was speaking reluctantly. "Bridges are burnt and rebuilt all the time." But then Amalia continued to speak, Ronin nodding in a slow, emphatic agreement. It was all the Voice's fault, though he hadn't considered the Spire Demon and its odd condition; he had just assumed it was old and archaic, or possessed by some Voice controlled bit of whatever-Ascended-were-made-of. The blight, though... He frowned, puzzled. "It's not impossible," he said slowly. "But wouldn't it have been infecting people before now...?" Then again, it had been largely isolated, killing anyone who got too close.