Ronin Taliesin
but they haven't seen the best of me
“Oh, you wish you had the advantage, Jata,” Ronin snarks back, scoffing and turning to his canvas. He hasn’t ever considered sculpting - he’s a painter at heart - but how hard could it be? Also, he’s got a small child, so. Crafts should be his thing, right? However they plan to set the rules or break them, though, it’s time to put their sandcastles where their mouths are, and Ronin sits forward to begin as well.
“Do I detect a note of teasing?” he wonders, raising his eyebrows across at the Flood as he piles up sand in a mound, making sure it’s the damp stuff and not the shitty-for-building dry stuff. Glancing across at his friend as they settle into their creations, Ronin’s smile is bright and boyish. “How are things?”
“Do I detect a note of teasing?” he wonders, raising his eyebrows across at the Flood as he piles up sand in a mound, making sure it’s the damp stuff and not the shitty-for-building dry stuff. Glancing across at his friend as they settle into their creations, Ronin’s smile is bright and boyish. “How are things?”