RONIN
"I hope she doesn't expect them to still be glowing when you get them to her," Ronin says, his voice almost swallowed up by the snow and the spidery branches stretching overhead. "If I remember right, they stop once you take them out of the Glade." Plodding after his husband in winter boots, his own wings unsheathed around his shoulders like a leathery cloak, Ronin isn't remotely looking for glowstones, in truth.
He's busy trying to map out the details of Remi's pale wings, where faint, creamy gold melts into near-white, where flight feathers dissolve into the softest down he's ever touched. Out here in the cold air they seem all the more colourful for the stark, snowlit background, and blue eyes blink back into focus as he realises the silence at the end of Remi's sentence ought to be filled with his own words. "Mm?" Eloquently put, Ronin's wings tighten further around him.
"An Ancient," he corrects. "And it's still too early to tell what this place will become, I think. It isn't like there will be much happening in Deepfrost, from what I understand about Ancients." As for the world and the extent of its perimeters, Ronin's worldview hasn't strayed much farther than the other man's wingspan for years now, and it's how he likes it.
He's busy trying to map out the details of Remi's pale wings, where faint, creamy gold melts into near-white, where flight feathers dissolve into the softest down he's ever touched. Out here in the cold air they seem all the more colourful for the stark, snowlit background, and blue eyes blink back into focus as he realises the silence at the end of Remi's sentence ought to be filled with his own words. "Mm?" Eloquently put, Ronin's wings tighten further around him.
"An Ancient," he corrects. "And it's still too early to tell what this place will become, I think. It isn't like there will be much happening in Deepfrost, from what I understand about Ancients." As for the world and the extent of its perimeters, Ronin's worldview hasn't strayed much farther than the other man's wingspan for years now, and it's how he likes it.
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
