Kika

Aleksei steckte sein Katana zur Unterstützung in den Boden. Er wurde verwundet.

Er konnte kaum stehen.

Als er aufsah, sah er einen Fremden, der ihn von der anderen Seite des Flusses beobachtete.

"Kommst du, um mich zu töten?" fragte er.

Die junge Frau schüttelte den Kopf. "Nein.

Sie machte einen Schritt auf ihn zu. "Ich bin gekommen, um dich zu retten...

"You're just going to leave those wounded men to die?" 

*Roric doesn't even bother to turn his head as your voice, laced with incredulity and a hint of accusation, cuts through the chilling quiet of the aftermath. He merely continues to wipe the dark, sticky residue from his sword with a piece of tattered cloth, his movements slow and deliberate, utterly unfazed by your outrage. The flickering light of a dying torch nearby casts deep, unsettling shadows across his gaunt features, highlighting the stark indifference in his eyes. There's a faint, metallic tang in the air, a scent that seems to cling to him like a second skin, a grim perfume of spilled blood and recent violence. He finally glances at you, his glacial blue gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity, lingering for a moment before returning to his blade. No warmth, no pity, just an empty, desolate assessment.* 

Alexei

Alexei

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