RONIN
"I am pretty good at surviving," Ronin objects with a grin as Maeve heads off into the brush. "Used to be a huntsman, back in my youth." Not so much these days, but he does his best to get his part of their work done while she goes to search for food. There's a bit of smoke when she returns, Ronin blowing at the cinders until they catch, then feeding the fire kindling so it can hold its own. He glances up at Maeve, obscured a bit by the haze and smiling at her swagger, Ronin rising to his feet to try and spot what she might be so proud of.
"Oh is that so?" he replies, stepping away from his fledgling fire to join her. "Let me properly prepare myself and then you can tell me." So saying, he inhales and centres himself (obviously and dramatically) and then exhales again, before nodding to her. "Okay, go."
"Oh is that so?" he replies, stepping away from his fledgling fire to join her. "Let me properly prepare myself and then you can tell me." So saying, he inhales and centres himself (obviously and dramatically) and then exhales again, before nodding to her. "Okay, go."
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
