RONIN
A voice, however soft, however gentle, was an unwelcome intrusion into Ronin’s little slice of peace. Still, it was with a sense of resignation rather than annoyance that he turned to look over his shoulder at the stranger, breaking off another morsel of cake to throw up to his swooping dragon. ”She isn’t nearly as sweet as her name implies,” he said, his tone wry and amused. After a cursory glance up and down, he turned his back on the man again and whistled for Sugar, an arm extended for her to land upon.
”Ronin,” he supplied in place of the more formal title given to him, the Dark Star tasting the morning for just a few moments more before he surrendered himself to a conversation. ”I was told to expect someone soon,” he said. ”I imagine you’re that someone?”
”Ronin,” he supplied in place of the more formal title given to him, the Dark Star tasting the morning for just a few moments more before he surrendered himself to a conversation. ”I was told to expect someone soon,” he said. ”I imagine you’re that someone?”
one more wish for you
