Saschas body was in agony, pounding, burning and hurting as the sweat pearls caressed the skin of his face. The cool trickling of blood from the wounds he had acquired from his wild chase in the woods made his spine tingle uncomfortably from the cool liquid on an overheated body. He felt dizzy as the surge of hurt rushed through his body and felt that it was hard to keep his eyes open by now but thankfully he did though, with force. Otherwise he would probably not witness the arrow with the attached white cloth to land a short bit away from him. Soon thereafter a water bottle landed next to the arrow which made Sascha understand what the fairy wanted him to do. He forced himself back up on overly shaky legs as the dizziness tried to overcome him but that he refused to let happen. He drew a heavy breath before forcing himself to the spot while the angry bandits stared at him, not risking to move after him since they had many arrows pointed at their direction.
It was BARELY that he made it to the arrow and as he reached the spot his tired legs failed to keep him standing. They lost all the strength they had left and Sascha fell down by the water bottle, his tired body shaking from the force this entire day had brought him.
The bandits casted glances towards him but their focus was mostly stuck on the fae since they indeed had a better advantage then they did considering the three bandits were overmatched by at least a handful more fae, probably more. The leader of the bandits looked angry up at Kheelan since he was messing with his entire business. It was HE that had chased that tiny abandoned all over this god damned forest and that meant that Sascha was HIS to do whatever he wanted with. He had earned it! He gave the fae a deadly glance while he opened his mouth to angrily speak again. "He is OURS. We have chased him all through this forest and he is not a fae! He is none of your business since he does not belong to you, he is from Hollowed ground and should have known better. This is your last warning; give him to us!"
The weak Sascha fought to keep himself conscious and the bandits words fluttered in and out through his tired skull. His eyes burning over the trouble he had caused the fae and in a desperate thought process he would surrender over to the bandits if his legs would hold him. It was his fault all the way. He should have been more careful during his trip, he should have been more keen to feel the bandits approaching and not having to run for his life. He should have known he had been way off near the border of Fae land even though there was no way he could have known.. but still. All of this was his fault and now he had stirred up trouble for the Fae.. He was pathetic..
SASCHA
"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."
