KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Having no idea that he'd just botched a perfectly good plan, Korbin knocked the cannibal to the ground. The impact made his arm jolt and the pain he felt reverberating through the bond, impossible to hold back. But not a sound slipped past his lips, stubbornly refusing to let his opponent know that he was hurt. Again, there was an easing of the pain, but there was no time to ponder why, or where it came from. The man was trying to turn beneath him, elbows shoving hard against his ribs, but Korbin just endured it and got his uninjured arm up around the cannibal's throat. Squeezed it tight, blocking off the air.
Then Loren was there, aiming a punch at the exile's face. It hit squarely, full in the face with enough force to knock the man's head back. Korbin just held on, his face twisted with pain and battle rage and determination as he grimly kept choking the life out of the cannibal. Hated the necessity... but knew better than to let go.
Then Loren was there, aiming a punch at the exile's face. It hit squarely, full in the face with enough force to knock the man's head back. Korbin just held on, his face twisted with pain and battle rage and determination as he grimly kept choking the life out of the cannibal. Hated the necessity... but knew better than to let go.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
