"I think he needs something more than just a body guard," she muttered. Though that moment of musing did not last at all long. Everything was quickly turned on to its head.
For Fallon, the world slowed itself. Muting and turning into a dulled blur. Her eyes widened in alarm, the previous words of Chabiza simply being lost to the back of her mind. She saw the dagger pierce him, the unnatural stiffness consume his form. The throat constricted, the heart jumping into a mighty race of emotion - that instinctual drive to race up and protect. Her foot lifted a nervous dart forward as Wrenmae barely begun his turn, her hand already ready to reach out and grab.
But Chabiza, that blasted myrian, stopped her. That reach to grab and reel her back, to halt her in her tracks. Her entire body gave a jerk, held back by the rough hand and her interruption halted. It took several firm tugs to realise she was being held back, an angry glare down to what was stopping her. Even she could feel the dulled beat of rage crawl up, that primal instinct sinking in. Eyes burned, that tremble of the throat as it tightened, her entire form rising up onto her toes. The hand clenched into a fist, the eyes falling to his jaw. The defensive swing up to it, the aim for his jaw and to force him away and back.
"Do not touch me," the voice dropped to that of a rough and husky, the lashing back hand and quick step away doing its work - caring not if it actually hit. Staggering away she continued her pivot round to face her brother, her eyes fixed upon her target. If Chabiza shouted after her, she was not listening for the steps turned into a dash.
Was she scared? Most probably, the quick stepping, beating heart as she focused only on closing the gap. The thought screamed to get to him, to help, support and defend if need be. Beyond that she did not know, but that did not matter right now. Even her entire form clinked with each step, the sound of undrawn steel and heavy leathers marking her footfall. Of course she did not understand what was going on, but she would still have to go on with what little she did know. To play the hand she was dealt and do the best she could with it. And it was perhaps that nagging instinct that said to her to be there for him, to be that supporting rock if he would let her.
"Egyptus," she hesitated, her feet grinding to a halt those few feet away. There was worry of course, her entire form screamed it, the way her hand reached out and froze those precious inches away. Her jaw clenched, her mind trying to work out what was going on. Was there blood? Was he hurt? What could she do? Her throat constricted, tightening and then letting loose a hiss, "What... the petch did you do to him?"
She burned her eyes upon the others, the nagging whisper of insecurity echoing in her mind. A trap? A trick? Her hand hovered above his shoulder, unsure whether or not to touch - fearful that if she did that he would be taken from her. But, for whatever was going on she was ready. To catch, to shield, to simply hold and support. That was the least she could do for him, and right now it looked like he needed that. Fallon mumbled, barely audible, "What did... answer me, please, let me know... Gods above, please be alright."
For Fallon, the world slowed itself. Muting and turning into a dulled blur. Her eyes widened in alarm, the previous words of Chabiza simply being lost to the back of her mind. She saw the dagger pierce him, the unnatural stiffness consume his form. The throat constricted, the heart jumping into a mighty race of emotion - that instinctual drive to race up and protect. Her foot lifted a nervous dart forward as Wrenmae barely begun his turn, her hand already ready to reach out and grab.
But Chabiza, that blasted myrian, stopped her. That reach to grab and reel her back, to halt her in her tracks. Her entire body gave a jerk, held back by the rough hand and her interruption halted. It took several firm tugs to realise she was being held back, an angry glare down to what was stopping her. Even she could feel the dulled beat of rage crawl up, that primal instinct sinking in. Eyes burned, that tremble of the throat as it tightened, her entire form rising up onto her toes. The hand clenched into a fist, the eyes falling to his jaw. The defensive swing up to it, the aim for his jaw and to force him away and back.
"Do not touch me," the voice dropped to that of a rough and husky, the lashing back hand and quick step away doing its work - caring not if it actually hit. Staggering away she continued her pivot round to face her brother, her eyes fixed upon her target. If Chabiza shouted after her, she was not listening for the steps turned into a dash.
Was she scared? Most probably, the quick stepping, beating heart as she focused only on closing the gap. The thought screamed to get to him, to help, support and defend if need be. Beyond that she did not know, but that did not matter right now. Even her entire form clinked with each step, the sound of undrawn steel and heavy leathers marking her footfall. Of course she did not understand what was going on, but she would still have to go on with what little she did know. To play the hand she was dealt and do the best she could with it. And it was perhaps that nagging instinct that said to her to be there for him, to be that supporting rock if he would let her.
"Egyptus," she hesitated, her feet grinding to a halt those few feet away. There was worry of course, her entire form screamed it, the way her hand reached out and froze those precious inches away. Her jaw clenched, her mind trying to work out what was going on. Was there blood? Was he hurt? What could she do? Her throat constricted, tightening and then letting loose a hiss, "What... the petch did you do to him?"
She burned her eyes upon the others, the nagging whisper of insecurity echoing in her mind. A trap? A trick? Her hand hovered above his shoulder, unsure whether or not to touch - fearful that if she did that he would be taken from her. But, for whatever was going on she was ready. To catch, to shield, to simply hold and support. That was the least she could do for him, and right now it looked like he needed that. Fallon mumbled, barely audible, "What did... answer me, please, let me know... Gods above, please be alright."
