Dead men walking

Ronin blinked at Loren. There was something profoundly egotistical, he felt, about the other man showing up out of nowhere, learning for the first time about the sickness that gripped the area and its people, and instantly throwing himself into cures and reassurances about the state of the hunter's future. Ronin was beginning to accept what was going to happen to him - he didn't need hopeless platitudes. "Anyone," he said. "Talk to anyone, I don't know who isn't working on it. Phoebe has done dozens of experiments and involved Frey, Remi and I have spoken to Safrin and have gone into the Spire to see if we could find and eradicate a source, Amalia has spoken to Vi himself and apparently there is something in the works." Just not in time for him, it looked like. Once upon a time, the sudden and hysterical laughter might have been contagious to Ronin; the ex-captain had always been able to smile easily and to find the ridiculous in an otherwise serious situation, and what he'd been through had been the epitome of ridiculous. Or he might have been deeply offended, given the way his psyche had been utterly shredded by the events. Instead he simply watched quietly, stone faced, as the librarian tried and failed to contain himself. The blight was a funny thing, Ronin was starting to realise. At least he wasn't flying off the handle in a rage this time. "No, not really," he agreed when Loren next spoke, shrugging his shoulders. There was nothing he wanted to hear from his old friend, and the fact that he watched quietly by as the other man inappropriately laughed at his death and the death of the mother of his child... it said it all. Wine, though, suddenly felt like a necessity rather than a treat, and he nodded. "Glass, bucket, whatever is on hand," he said with a faint smirk. Whatever was on hand was nothing at all, in reality, but he was sure Loren's magic would soon be on that. RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.