The Offer on My Head, Still Stands

Her weight buckled beneath his, though in the process of doing so, a simple breath of command was issued from Sephiran. Enough. Aresenn clasped his jaws closed as he collected himself- staggering off the top of the girl in his accomplice’s address. He moved away from her, off to the side with an obvious limp leftover from the injury he sustained. Breathing heavy, he didn’t quite catch the initial question. However, he heard her answer plainly … after she swallowed whatever piece of him she had managed to steal. With a sudden tickle in the back of his throat leftover from the sickness he hadn’t quite yet conquered, Aresenn leaned towards the ground in a moment of a hacking fit- Absinth’s blood spraying the snow from his maw. As he righted himself, he stood to the side glancing back and forth between the judge and the accused. For a moment, he locked eyes with the girl, allowing that half-sided smirk to return. He wasn’t even going to try and predict Sephiran, though he personally felt that she had delivered. But of course, he was the one with the new hole in his shoulder.

"Aresenn Praetor"