a single spark

ronin A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets Ronin's breath wavered in his throat as the carvings blitzed to life, their starlight reflected in blue eyes clouded with awe. The touch of a goddess was like no other, and for a man so uninitiated into faith and fate and deities, Ronin was like clay for Safrin to mould beneath her fingers. He sighed into the feel of her hands, the stress and fatigue melting from him, eyes closing so he could better listen to her voice. "I should hope not," he replied with a wry smile. "There is much more I would do before I find my way into any sort of grave." Blinking his eyes back open, he flashed her a smile and a respectful bow of his head as she accepted his gifts. "That they shine for you away from the Glade is only fitting." he murmured, before glancing to the ring on his finger. "Light is actually why I petitioned to speak with you," he said, slipping the ring off and holding it up, the glow suffusing the air around them. "I was given this some time back, but it is not so bright as it used to be. I wondered if there might be anything I could do to make it work better..."