Are
Damn it.
Gods damn it.
Gods damn it all to whatever Hel came after!
Livid was far too kind words to describe the fuming, shivering pile of arms, armor, crushed flesh and bone that seethed with impotent rage and adrenaline. Another stab into the land of the cursed Álfar had got him lost worse than when he visited the Labyrinth. Only to run into a whole bunch of them and... What had happened between unslinging his shield and waking up pinned like a bug was not even a blur. It just wasn't.
He wanted to shout, to yell, to thrash, and to rip the offending boulder to pieces, but all that came of his efforts was a faint wheezing, gurgling cough and a mouthful of iron-tasting foulness spat out. A ragged breath made him come to it enough to realize the light above could just as well had been the Valkyries coming for him. At least the ego was still intact.
The question broke through his hazy mind, as the wave of power was dying down. In it's wake came what he so had feared. Pain. Deep, throbbing, at first, but soon growing tenfold, hundredfold. Until his world was nothing but searing daggers following the blood returning to his crushed legs. A labored breath finally given wings and escaping his throat a desperate groan, a whimper from a dying dog. A dog looking up at Phoebe with eyes pleading for release. "No, I'm going, and fast, Phoebe." he managed to whisper between gasps for air and painful grimaces.
What little resolve still left in his mangled corpse was mustered, a single word, a single memory a beacon to keep pushing. Not for the gods, not for glory, but for her. "But I'll make it. I have to. Signe's waiting." Are said, to Phoebe, to himself, and laughed weakly.
Gods damn it.
Gods damn it all to whatever Hel came after!
Livid was far too kind words to describe the fuming, shivering pile of arms, armor, crushed flesh and bone that seethed with impotent rage and adrenaline. Another stab into the land of the cursed Álfar had got him lost worse than when he visited the Labyrinth. Only to run into a whole bunch of them and... What had happened between unslinging his shield and waking up pinned like a bug was not even a blur. It just wasn't.
He wanted to shout, to yell, to thrash, and to rip the offending boulder to pieces, but all that came of his efforts was a faint wheezing, gurgling cough and a mouthful of iron-tasting foulness spat out. A ragged breath made him come to it enough to realize the light above could just as well had been the Valkyries coming for him. At least the ego was still intact.
The question broke through his hazy mind, as the wave of power was dying down. In it's wake came what he so had feared. Pain. Deep, throbbing, at first, but soon growing tenfold, hundredfold. Until his world was nothing but searing daggers following the blood returning to his crushed legs. A labored breath finally given wings and escaping his throat a desperate groan, a whimper from a dying dog. A dog looking up at Phoebe with eyes pleading for release. "No, I'm going, and fast, Phoebe." he managed to whisper between gasps for air and painful grimaces.
What little resolve still left in his mangled corpse was mustered, a single word, a single memory a beacon to keep pushing. Not for the gods, not for glory, but for her. "But I'll make it. I have to. Signe's waiting." Are said, to Phoebe, to himself, and laughed weakly.
