I will fight the end
Well of course I would go, he agrees, almost hoping that his goddess does ask him to go to Halo, if for no other reason than to rub it in Morgan's face. Also, Morgan is only really Warden of the Citadel, right? I could go to, say, the Sea of Glass. Or the Fangs. She's not in charge of that. Is he trying to find loopholes on purpose? Perhaps. It's a fun thought, either way, to pace around outside the city walls, just because he can.
As Remi moves back - a considerable distance, though it doesn't look like it - Ronin kicks out his legs to try to do the same, though it moves him a pitiful amount in comparison. Alright, alright. But you mustn't laugh at me, he says playfully. A sensation swells through their bond, as if the Huntsman is taking a big, deep breath and letting it out again. But then he gives in to the itching in the soles of his feet and the back of his throat, allowing the sensation to flood through him, to grow and warp and change.
And honestly, he expects to become a tiny goldfish. So when his form stretches and elongates - and then keeps going - a sparkle of surprise and even fear shoots through towards Remi. Oh... Ronin isn't capable of much more than that, starlight scales blazing along his shift's underside, in complete contrast to the sleek, pitch black shape that those who look down on him would see.
It isn't a growl so much as a vibration through the water as Ronin surges forward, a creature not un-draconic in nature, but still markedly different. A sea serpent large enough to encircle the kraken of all things, ridged along his back and with a maw so full of teeth that they seem nearly endless, this is a patient, ancient sort of wickedness that settles in his bones. This isn't the vibrant chaos of a dragon - this is a deeper monster, one capable of much more destruction if only it could be unleashed.
As Remi moves back - a considerable distance, though it doesn't look like it - Ronin kicks out his legs to try to do the same, though it moves him a pitiful amount in comparison. Alright, alright. But you mustn't laugh at me, he says playfully. A sensation swells through their bond, as if the Huntsman is taking a big, deep breath and letting it out again. But then he gives in to the itching in the soles of his feet and the back of his throat, allowing the sensation to flood through him, to grow and warp and change.
And honestly, he expects to become a tiny goldfish. So when his form stretches and elongates - and then keeps going - a sparkle of surprise and even fear shoots through towards Remi. Oh... Ronin isn't capable of much more than that, starlight scales blazing along his shift's underside, in complete contrast to the sleek, pitch black shape that those who look down on him would see.
It isn't a growl so much as a vibration through the water as Ronin surges forward, a creature not un-draconic in nature, but still markedly different. A sea serpent large enough to encircle the kraken of all things, ridged along his back and with a maw so full of teeth that they seem nearly endless, this is a patient, ancient sort of wickedness that settles in his bones. This isn't the vibrant chaos of a dragon - this is a deeper monster, one capable of much more destruction if only it could be unleashed.
'til the end is here
