we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
It’s only because Ronin’s projection is standing before Remi, rather than the real deal, that he feels remotely safe as the manticore snarls and bristles, understandably annoyed at the interruption. Still, he waits patiently for the Alchemist to come back to himself enough to speak with the Star, and even the projection relaxes as the voice - dark as it might sound - purrs through to him. ”If not your appetite then, maybe just your temper,” he remarks, stepping slowly forward to gaze around at the ramphire corpses.
”No magic, then, but you’ve still got this.” Whatever this is depends on the two of them, and whilst Ronin isn’t sure how much control his husband has right now, it doesn’t stop him from drawing closer still, using the manticore as a buffer against the wind and the rain. ”How do you feel?”
”No magic, then, but you’ve still got this.” Whatever this is depends on the two of them, and whilst Ronin isn’t sure how much control his husband has right now, it doesn’t stop him from drawing closer still, using the manticore as a buffer against the wind and the rain. ”How do you feel?”
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
