cut our teeth and make our bones right here

Ronin

welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies

"I have not," Ronin says softly, and he'd be amused about it were it not for the already massive loss of life evident all around them. As for the leash and the wendigo's un-shifty-ness, well, this is a lesson to speak to one's partner about all this bullshit instead of pretending to be a labrador at their heels, isn't it?

Anyway. Live and learn. (He hopes).

The hunters are dispersing and the nuckelavee zones in on the shackled wendigo, just as Remi assumed it would. The sound that leaves its flayed throat(s) definitely isn't laughter, but the wheezing, clicking sound makes a decent substitute anyway. With its grotesquely long arms dragging along the cold concrete it makes a beeline for Remi, hoping to turn him into a squashed bloodbag as well.

Only when Ronin is certain that the other hunters have gotten the message - fucking retreat, make a source of running fresh water, try not to shit yourselves - does he turn back to his partner, shrugging the old faithful silver chain back from his shoulder. "If you can grapple it I can try and bind it," he calls, keeping a wise distance as he circles around. "Let me know if you've got a better idea."

sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!