I want to have faith to put away the dagger

Ezekiel de le Poer · 04-07-2012, 08:47 PM

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Siiiebum. Central Waste, any time of day works?

The wound in his chest had been the most severe. Ezekiel had not doubted Enkiel’s confirmation of his luck, and was glad that it was only muscle damaged in the process. It was deep regardless and formed a jagged line under his left shoulder. Stitching had served to close it, but the pain was more irritable now. This was two-folded; the bitch had done severe damage to his leg. A careful eye would spot his faint limp, but as Aquila, the coyote could not allow himself to show weakness. Luckily, Viggo had not been wounded in the combat severely and riding him was still an option.

A bandage was wrapped around his thigh, but he displayed the wound on his chest plainly. It formed a sharp line against the strap of his quiver and bowstring, which he now (as he always had) carried everywhere. The only addition to his collection was the quarterstaff. It served to help hide his limp, though the weapon had proven useful in combat. Their enemy had come with swords, and as Max had produced, shields. They were well armed and well trained.

The cross had been the breaking point for him. Only one other group of canines had come to him brandishing steel and the sign of God, and they lived under his rule now. Kastra had been nowhere to be found—she had increased her patrols alongside Aemon, and Ezekiel had no patience. He settled on a large stone near the highest point of the territory and called for his brother. Below him, Viggo grazed uneasily, pausing often to lift his head and look about. Ezekiel frowned at the display. It seemed the coyotes were not the only ones on edge.

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