The branch snapped and Ronan cringed. He could feel the intensity of a soft glare on the side of his face and brushed it off. **"As you were saying, Ronan?"** 

Such a smartass. 

She had to get it from Ronan, assuming they really were related. Though he had dealt with plenty of strange situations in his life: the idea that they were related was far from the strangest. Without another word, Ronan stood up from his spot on the ground, dusting his hands off. He was getting too old for this. **"Man the fire for me, darlin'. I'll go have a look."**'

**"Like hell you will!"** She snapped back, standing up beside him. Well, he couldn't exactly tell her to beat it: she was almost of age. And sooner or later, she'd have to deal for herself. As far as he was concerned, she was more fit for survival than he was. This was likely because her ability was actually useful in terms of a confrontation and didn't screw her over each time upon usage.

Though his face was feigned with disappointment, he was smiling a bit inside. **"Alright, alright. C'mon then,"** and away from their fire they went, moving only a few feet into the forest. Surely, the individual had heard them. Had they readied a trap? Where they with the Blades? 

So many questions ran through Ronan's head before he stopped in front of a boy, no older than Violet, with white hair and dressed in black. **"And who the hell are ye?"**