RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
”I don’t feel cold at all,” Ronin murmurs back, tilting his head to rest it against Remi’s as they skate on glass, frost nipping at their noses and fingers and chafing their cheeks to a rosy blush. He almost feels like he can close his eyes here and merely drift here, relaxed in the Lullaby’s presence, and he tries to duck his head away from snapping teeth with a cheerful grin.
Humming his agreement but too joyful at having seen it in action to care, the Star slows to skate in a slow circle. Up ahead on a bank of snow, a campfire crackles merrily away, flanked by a log bench perfect for two. ”It helps that you’re not hunting us down and trying to bite chunks out of us as well,” he remarks, wrinkling his nose in memory of the blight. ”Want to sit and roast marshmallows with me?”
Humming his agreement but too joyful at having seen it in action to care, the Star slows to skate in a slow circle. Up ahead on a bank of snow, a campfire crackles merrily away, flanked by a log bench perfect for two. ”It helps that you’re not hunting us down and trying to bite chunks out of us as well,” he remarks, wrinkling his nose in memory of the blight. ”Want to sit and roast marshmallows with me?”
show me your darkness.
