you are terrifying and strange and beautiful
With a noise that holds no words but still manages to convey outrage, Ronin pulls his peppermint bark away from Remi's inky fingers. And when he lifts his head, showing a similarly ink-splotched face, the Huntsman has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face. It's made easier, granted, by Remi's expression, and he melts into a smile and a quick kiss to a (clean) cheek as he listens.
"Oh? That doesn't sound like you," he says of being tongue-tied, though he can at least understand the difficulty in writing. Moving to nudge another log or two into the burner and set the kettle atop it so he can make tea, Ronin slouches into the seat beside the Lullaby and tilts his head at the names. "Ah. Those letters," he hums under his breath, before giving Remi a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Would you like me to play scribe? My writing isn't nearly as beautiful as yours, but it's legible."
As for how to begin, "What if we try 'never touch our relics again'? Too much?"
"Oh? That doesn't sound like you," he says of being tongue-tied, though he can at least understand the difficulty in writing. Moving to nudge another log or two into the burner and set the kettle atop it so he can make tea, Ronin slouches into the seat beside the Lullaby and tilts his head at the names. "Ah. Those letters," he hums under his breath, before giving Remi a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Would you like me to play scribe? My writing isn't nearly as beautiful as yours, but it's legible."
As for how to begin, "What if we try 'never touch our relics again'? Too much?"
The huntsman
