we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
"Yeah we are, aren't we?" Ronin grins, even as they're ass first on the sand and trying to kick away the encroaching waves - at least Ronin is, anyway. He enjoys the Korofi curses even if he doesn't have a fucking clue what Sunjata is saying; maybe it's just something he's used to now that Remi is embracing the travelling tongue in full. Either way, while he can't give any verbal agreement, he does pat the other man on the shoulder. That is, until his arm is trying to snake around Jata to reach for the new bottle so he can take a swig too.
"Ew, destiny," he grumbles, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head to Sunjata. "You ain't always made the wrong choices," he points out. "You got married, and you're governor, and you can be a dragon and all that, right?" He pats him warmly. "And we're friends. That's a good choice."
"Ew, destiny," he grumbles, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head to Sunjata. "You ain't always made the wrong choices," he points out. "You got married, and you're governor, and you can be a dragon and all that, right?" He pats him warmly. "And we're friends. That's a good choice."
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
