it's a funny old world

Ronin worked in silence, gathering pillows and spare blankets and anything else to soften the hard floorboards of the guildhall. The makeshift bed was coming together before the hearth where a low fire still burned. Nearby, Aoife was sound asleep in the basket they had placed her in - she had awoken hungry when they arrived back, but had drifted straight back off afterwards. They had watched Vanya's star for longer than Ronin could really remember; his breath had caught in his throat at the sight of it, and he had stared until his eyes blurred and the burning cosmos was etched into his memory forever. They had left in silence, then, returning to the guildhall, but Ronin couldn't take himself back upstairs. Not tonight. There was still cleaning up to do, and dried blood everywhere, and besides... it was where they had lived. Peeling that away so soon felt wrong. "I hope this is okay," he mumbled to Remi as if in apology, already knowing that the alchemist had lived in much more scarce conditions in his time. "You can take that one. I'll make another bed up over here." Difficult as the evening had been, Ronin wasn't stupid enough not to connect the dots about losing Loren's memories. It would be inappropriate, surely, for them not to sleep a respectful distance apart. ronin the long and lonesome road