gratuitous violence; unnecessary, satisfying, heartbreaking
What kind of thoughts? Ronin wants to know, easily vaulting over a rotten log that has fallen in his path before prowling forward once more. He turns sharply at the sight of the hawk bursting through the leaves, every scent honed and sharp for changes, though he relaxes somewhat to see his husband and his spriggan rider. Crouching down to examine the earth, the tracks lead deeper into the forest, something that doesn't surprise Ronin one bit.
The earth, he mumbles in response to what he can smell. But so much more than that too... I can smell the deer that was here not half an hour before. It's like sunlight and grass and hot blood. The answer to Remi's musings, then, is both, sort of. And Ronin slows his steps almost instinctively as the trees thin up ahead, the Huntsman careful of every place he might put his feet.
The earth, he mumbles in response to what he can smell. But so much more than that too... I can smell the deer that was here not half an hour before. It's like sunlight and grass and hot blood. The answer to Remi's musings, then, is both, sort of. And Ronin slows his steps almost instinctively as the trees thin up ahead, the Huntsman careful of every place he might put his feet.
RONIN
