dirty bones

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

"Something like that." Remi agrees, the tug of their braid pulling with every step. By no means is it the most the alchemist's hair has been pulled. "I do not hide, though. But I can be very big and have lots of teeth."

Both understanding the sentiment and wanting to argue against it just the same, all Remi can really do is exhale an easy puff of air and shrug in the fox's direction. "Well, I know now. So whatever I can do...I have already learned my lesson about convincing you to leave this forest once, but you are both welcome in Stormbreak anytime." Not least of all for food and babysitting services. "I have set up a shop, you might be interested in at least seeing..." Remi adds, trying to at least entice the fox for a visit.

Remi's vision is suddenly full of green eyes and freckles; it's lucky that they are on a path with the fox before them lest Remi crash Fiadh right into a tree. "Remi." He corrects, holding up a hand for the girl to shake (or chew on, slap, spit on, etc. All seem equally likely with Fiadh).