it's a long way home

Ronin felt something in him surge angrily as the glass was swept out of his reach, but he swallowed it down with an effort of willpower, as Remi had suggested earlier. As the cloth appeared only to instantly turn black, Ronin swore under his breath and continued to apply pressure to the wound, cursing himself for a fool internally. "Do we need to fetch someone for sutures?" he asked, not particularly (read: at all) wanting to be around anyone else currently. Awkwardly finding a chair at the kitchen table, Ronin sank down into it with his arm still surrendered to his husband. He barely noticed the pain, which was probably another worrying symptom, but for now it proved useful. "It might not be," he said suddenly, about the season being their last together. "Even if the blight does take its course, it might not be the last one." He glared at the ground, not wanting to bring it up but knowing better than to hide it now. "I spoke with Safrin, not long ago," he confessed. "...She doesn't believe the blight will kill me. It will be worse than that." RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.