Ivor had never understood why people could get angry enough to ever see only red. In fact, the man thought that only an expression, but if he ever got the chance to live through this experience, he could truthfully boast that everthing appeared red for him. The woman was covered in it, most his brother's, but the rest of her was a hazy red. Maybe it was because Ivor was that angry, or he had some of his brother's blood in his eyes. But he was surprised that the majority of his anger wasn't directed at this merc. He was angry at that noble who hired them, and at Kadin for getting himself killed. But out of everyone, Ivor was angry with himself. Ruth would become a widow before she does a spouse, and the kids they dreamed of poofed from exsistance. And it was all his fault. That thought overwhelmed him, numbing his entire body. He barely felt the force of the woman's sword blocking his own attack in midswing. Her words for him past over him like water over glass. The strength of the shield as it smashed into the side of him went unnoticed, even when he stumbled backwards. Death had even took him yet, but it sure felt like it. Lifting his sword to defend was a struggle. Not because he was too hurt, but he didn't felt like defending himself. He wished to die, even if it left Ruth alone in a dark city. Oh, why did this have to be so hard? |