fears, shmears

what. Ronin stood before the start of the Bone Bridge, remembering how he and Zariah had walked across it once. The guildmaster turned the collar of his coat up to ward off a sharp winter breeze, the movement causing the dragonling that sheltered against his neck to chirp appreciatively. A frown flickered across his face, Ronin burying his hands in deep pockets - he wore his gauntlet on his left hand, as he had done since receiving it from Safrin, but he had foregone the Snakebite today. The last time he'd used it, he... it hadn't felt good, put it that way. About to set foot upon the bridge to see if he would be able to walk farther than he had done last time, Ronin paused at the sound of... humming. Quiet, repetitive. He turned to glance over his shoulder to see a figure he half recognised. Wessex had fought off demonic gourds with him in the Glade. He was also reasonably sure she had shot him in the arm (the limb was still bandaged - another reason for not wearing his clawed glove). But that was neither here nor there. What caused him to really stop and stare was the sight of Krosis strapped to her back, the claymore instantly recognisable. "Hello," he called, more to make sure his presence was known than as an actual greeting.