our love of life and tension

He paused, surprise bringing his expression up as he paused in his work. “You did ?” He said, caught between delight for her for trying, and surprise that she hadn’t told him about it beforehand. Delight won out and he continued to hold the sponge, looking at her. Waiting to hear what had happened. He wasn’t surprised that his Uncle had beaten her - She was good, but he was the Warlord. It was how well she had conducted herself that he waited to hear. And there it was - His Uncle had made her a Lieutenant. “Congrats!” He said, meaning it. “Shit, I guess we need to break out the last bottle I’ve been hiding” He admitted, a little sheepishly. He turned back to the cut.

Finishing his work of cleaning it as quickly as he could without bringing her more pain. Once it was clean to his satisfaction he grabbed a clean piece of cloth and wrapped it around the wound. He gave her shoulder a pat for good measure. “We need to celebrate!”


"Speech"