Foolish men

His smile, while weary with exhaustion, was sincere. “Any time.” if she needed someone to talk to, he would do his best. “That’s… a good idea.” he agreed, somewhat relieved to hear her say it. He really didn’t think he’d manage a graceful walk back to the castle. In fact, he was pretty sure it would look more like a drunken lurch. His poor body was trying to tell him enough! and he knew he would do well to heed it.

He put his paw on his head, and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he nodded off, but the sound of a washcloth over water seemed oddly sudden beside him. Blinking open his eyes, he realised she was washing the blood from her face. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have realised that would likely add to her distress. Foolish knight. He was making a lot of mistakes today.

His next would become apparent when she picked up his poor sword. The precious metal should have been one of the first things he dealt with - a warrior lived or died by their blade. He let out a soft groan, and shook his head. “Art is going to skin me alive.” He muttered. “Skybreaker” he said softly, a little reverently in response to her question. He would give it the absolute best care after this. He would oil it until it gleamed again.


"Mercury"