[ Men delirious with pain are seldom discerning. He's been bitten, he's been grabbed. But that wasn't some random blow; not the daze of battle or seize of limbs. No. A fist and intention.
She isn't the first. He finishes the buttons, regards her: Stilted as a child called to office. Some of the knights were so, even in Ghislain; gripping themselves like armor, and no use in prying it now. Look where that's gotten him.
If she wants to speak, let her speak, or tire out standing. He can always leave.
no subject
You aren't the first.
[ Men delirious with pain are seldom discerning. He's been bitten, he's been grabbed. But that wasn't some random blow; not the daze of battle or seize of limbs. No. A fist and intention.
She isn't the first. He finishes the buttons, regards her: Stilted as a child called to office. Some of the knights were so, even in Ghislain; gripping themselves like armor, and no use in prying it now. Look where that's gotten him.
If she wants to speak, let her speak, or tire out standing. He can always leave.
(Here, he can leave.) ]