RONIN
the darkstar
”Oh is that so? I remember when you were such a gentle man. All this blood and guts wasn’t for you, even as a hawk,” Ronin protests, gently surrendering their son that Remi might peel his grabby fingers away from the antlers that sorely do not want to be pulled about this morning. Then the alchemist’s hand lands upon his shoulder, of course, and Ronin narrows his eyes playfully to his husband.
”Um?” he echoes, not quite understanding but trusting the other man implicitly. His eyes slipping shut, the Star lets out a long, deep breath and indeed conjures his favourite scarf into his mind; a long, knitted grey thing traded for back in the Hollowed Grounds for that first Deepfrost. It had been long enough to wind around both he and Vanya at the time, and it had perished when the guildhall had burned.
”Um?” he echoes, not quite understanding but trusting the other man implicitly. His eyes slipping shut, the Star lets out a long, deep breath and indeed conjures his favourite scarf into his mind; a long, knitted grey thing traded for back in the Hollowed Grounds for that first Deepfrost. It had been long enough to wind around both he and Vanya at the time, and it had perished when the guildhall had burned.
