sometimes love is a feather, sometimes a cannon ball
Any watching might think Ronin and Remi were having a spat, what with the big cat setting a brisk pace and the hunter stony-faced behind. This was one of those rare occasions where any sort of mental communication that the alchemist might want to create between the two was utterly unnecessary. Dark and bleak though the king's presence might have been at the lion's side, for once the alchemist didn't shy away from it. Didn't need to wonder at it. Perhaps he ought to have; sending Ronin away rather than straight into what would surely be a hellish confrontation was probably the best course of action. But it was for better or worse, they'd promised each other in so many words not so long ago.
Halting at an intersection, the lion tilted his nose into the breeze. Here the scents mingled and though Ronin's haste and anticipation nearly felt palpable, the lion would not rush. Pacing back and forth, nose high and then low again, Remi's tail twitched anxiously as he glanced back and forth. Partially shifting his mouth—something he hated doing for all its unseemly awkwardness—he gave voice to information his senses had recently imparted.
"I do not smell blood." The lion advised. He'd not say that Aoife was safe or unharmed, but the lack of metallic-red on the breeze was one sort of relief. But there were many ways to hurt someone, especially a child.
"This way." So saying, the lion darted towards the left. The greatroad gave way to cobblestones and twisting side streets. The area of town was less inhabited, which made it all the easier to pluck Aoife's sweet and youthful scent out.
Halting at an intersection, the lion tilted his nose into the breeze. Here the scents mingled and though Ronin's haste and anticipation nearly felt palpable, the lion would not rush. Pacing back and forth, nose high and then low again, Remi's tail twitched anxiously as he glanced back and forth. Partially shifting his mouth—something he hated doing for all its unseemly awkwardness—he gave voice to information his senses had recently imparted.
"I do not smell blood." The lion advised. He'd not say that Aoife was safe or unharmed, but the lack of metallic-red on the breeze was one sort of relief. But there were many ways to hurt someone, especially a child.
"This way." So saying, the lion darted towards the left. The greatroad gave way to cobblestones and twisting side streets. The area of town was less inhabited, which made it all the easier to pluck Aoife's sweet and youthful scent out.
Remi
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
