A Pound Of Flesh

Tarnish's head was swimming with pain, his heart hammering in his chest and his breath coming up short. Despite the battle being over there was anger boiling in his gut, no, more than anger. There was shame. He was ashamed he kept losing, ashamed he couldn't protect his sister, ashamed at how poor of a raider he was turning out to be. Useless. Just useless. His opponent spoke and Tarnish snarled. He didn't want to hear another word out of that stupid mouth but as he opened his mouth to shoot out a retort his face moved and he flinched in pain.

The man was speaking to him now. Asking him questions but he struggled to process, feeling fainter by the second and unable to get a deep breath. "I- I don- I don't know!" He shrieked. He didn't know anything! He was a stupid, worthless idiot. Why would anybody ever ask him anything? He had just enough awareness to realize Rivin had arrived before he passed out.

-exit via unconsciousness-

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