there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters
Smiling at Maeve in return (though it's only really visible in the crinkling of his eyes, given the shirt wrapped around the lower half of his face), Ronin nods, as well, at Locke, before standing by to listen to Remi. This is his rodeo after all - the Huntsman is just along for the ride. Literal ride, as it turns out, and he smiles between their potential passengers. "Whoever has the pleasure of it, would you take this bag with you?" he asks, setting it down before stepping back to get some space.
"The only shift I have that flies and allows passengers isn't a small one, sorry."
Without further ado, Ronin grows and warps and changes, black scales flecking the dragon's back, while his belly shone in lighter, starlit tones. Grumbling to them, he hunkers down to allow for a passenger or two, should it be required.
Ronin asks whoever is hitching a ride to please collect his bag, before shifting into a dragon.
"The only shift I have that flies and allows passengers isn't a small one, sorry."
Without further ado, Ronin grows and warps and changes, black scales flecking the dragon's back, while his belly shone in lighter, starlit tones. Grumbling to them, he hunkers down to allow for a passenger or two, should it be required.
Ronin asks whoever is hitching a ride to please collect his bag, before shifting into a dragon.
ronin
