RONIN
For better or for worse, the lights lead them to the source of the howling. And Ronin ruffles his fingers through his hair as he emerges in time to see his daughter cup her hands and let out a mournful cry in response, to see an eagle take flight up and up and up. The Huntsman bites at the inside of his cheek; perhaps the years have made him cynical, but he cannot help but to suspect a trap in all of this.
"I'll scout out the place," he decides, and with a curl of a finger upwards, he summons down a nimbus to hop aboard. In silence - apart from the howling, evidently - Ronin soars upwards to circle the tower, to try and spy whether the danger resides at the top, or on the ground where his daughter waits.
"I'll scout out the place," he decides, and with a curl of a finger upwards, he summons down a nimbus to hop aboard. In silence - apart from the howling, evidently - Ronin soars upwards to circle the tower, to try and spy whether the danger resides at the top, or on the ground where his daughter waits.
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
