when regrets were nowhere to be found

you'll find the cross only fits when your hands and feet are nailed to it

The Oerwoud is very nice. Sunjata agrees happily with a rumbling chirp from the Nyala’s throat, before Ronin’s nose is pressed into his ear. His large dished ears flicker and he snorts before shaking out his head, the mohawk of fur along his spine dancing back and forth with the movement. Excuse you. He jests, trotting along with Ronin toward their destination.

The conversation edges toward somber territory though as it was often prone to do and the nyala finds himself swallowing a bit hard, ears flickering back in his uncertainty, glancing sidelong at Ronin as he comes to a dead stop and Sunjata takes two steps forward before also stopping. No, not really. She thought we had some sort of connection like that, and maybe once back before everything happened I would’ve gone with it but… Now? With Kamaria and what I did to Nate and the fact she made it very clear where she stood when she arrived? A snort of disbelief leaves him. She’s our friend, mine and Nate’s and… I don’t know. It was tense after that, when I didn’t give in. If this shift could be frowning, it would be, but for now all he can do is send the awkwardness and sorrow at losing a friend down the bond toward Ronin.

SUNJATA