we are like birds of a feather, we are two hearts thrown together
The ring on his finger remains more or less steady. Remi has stopped trying to decode what various sporadic beats might indicate; Ronin and Jata might be sparring, might be drunk, might be taking on ursurs, or, in a not-too-distant-reality, fucking each other. Regardless, so long as the pulsing doesn't stop entirely, Remi doesn't give it much thought. He wants his husband back now, but knows that the Huntsman needs this trip away from the Woods and the new lives within it.
He hates it, though.
Unlike Ronin, Remi hasn't worked on the boat at all. He's cleaned up here and there, but given what side of things he's currently on, doing anything without Ronin feels unfaithful to this mutual dream of theirs. So, rather than waking with the dawn to work on their boat, Remi is asleep inside of it. Not unlike how he used to sleep in Northaven, Remi's pale avian form is perched on top of what might have once been an oar. With a head beneath his wing, he's nothing more than a golden ball of sleepy feathers as Ronin enters.
He hates it, though.
Unlike Ronin, Remi hasn't worked on the boat at all. He's cleaned up here and there, but given what side of things he's currently on, doing anything without Ronin feels unfaithful to this mutual dream of theirs. So, rather than waking with the dawn to work on their boat, Remi is asleep inside of it. Not unlike how he used to sleep in Northaven, Remi's pale avian form is perched on top of what might have once been an oar. With a head beneath his wing, he's nothing more than a golden ball of sleepy feathers as Ronin enters.
THE ALCHEMIST
we will be forever as one, my brother under the sun
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
