Status: I'm really not sure about this. :s
Black
Three
She felt strong arms that had suddenly wrapped around her from behind beginning to pull her off the bludgeoned soldier and she kicked to free herself. Nothing worked, and when her foot contacted with the leg of the one holding her she noticed it wasn't fazed by it and the body wasn't as squishy as the enemies were. This still hadn't ceased her rage, knowing one of her best friend's or her deceased brother's men were intent on stopping her blood bath. "Get the fuck off me!"
"I'm not letting you go until you calm down." The voice was peaceful sounding; its owner's body was resilient to her scratching and flailing. His voice seemed very familiar but not enough for her to calm down. She knew that voice well but squirmed and panted relentlessly.
"Let. Me. Go!" She elbows the man and spits blood onto the ground, the pain finally hitting her lip-- the only shot the soldier she suspected killed Luke got on her. She prayed she got whoever it was.
"Marcine we won. It's okay." The voice was smooth and ruffled her hair forward with heavy breaths, a bloody pale hand rubbing over her arm to comfort her. "We won." He knew for her to act so vulnerable there was something wrong, especially right here in front of men that looked up to her as some sort of goddess. She never showed she was bothered by anything. Something hurt her bad. He knew this, but still did anything to postpone knowing.
There she realized her captor and cried aloud, her strength slipping away again. If he hadn't held her up her buckled knees would've failed her, making her collide with the ground as she did early next to her brother. "No we didn't, Andrew. We didn't win because they got him."
His emotions had nearly bested him, something that he would never let happen in front of all these men. He hoped his feet would stay planted on the ground since he was her support scheme now and if he failed to keep balanced she would be sent to his feet in a heaping puddle of tears. He fought it as best he could and held her tighter to steady them both. He knew that by her voice she spoke truth and replied quieter, hollow like she felt when she saw all the blood. "We haven't accounted for all of our men yet. He could still be alive."
She laughed bitterly, sucking in air and letting her weight fall against him. "No, no. I saw him.. He's.. He's not.." She sighed and tried to erase his last words, closing her eyes as tightly as she could. Andrew took in another breath and kissed her shoulder, blood and all, loosening his iron grip on her.
"Then tonight we will mourn."
"I'm not letting you go until you calm down." The voice was peaceful sounding; its owner's body was resilient to her scratching and flailing. His voice seemed very familiar but not enough for her to calm down. She knew that voice well but squirmed and panted relentlessly.
"Let. Me. Go!" She elbows the man and spits blood onto the ground, the pain finally hitting her lip-- the only shot the soldier she suspected killed Luke got on her. She prayed she got whoever it was.
"Marcine we won. It's okay." The voice was smooth and ruffled her hair forward with heavy breaths, a bloody pale hand rubbing over her arm to comfort her. "We won." He knew for her to act so vulnerable there was something wrong, especially right here in front of men that looked up to her as some sort of goddess. She never showed she was bothered by anything. Something hurt her bad. He knew this, but still did anything to postpone knowing.
There she realized her captor and cried aloud, her strength slipping away again. If he hadn't held her up her buckled knees would've failed her, making her collide with the ground as she did early next to her brother. "No we didn't, Andrew. We didn't win because they got him."
His emotions had nearly bested him, something that he would never let happen in front of all these men. He hoped his feet would stay planted on the ground since he was her support scheme now and if he failed to keep balanced she would be sent to his feet in a heaping puddle of tears. He fought it as best he could and held her tighter to steady them both. He knew that by her voice she spoke truth and replied quieter, hollow like she felt when she saw all the blood. "We haven't accounted for all of our men yet. He could still be alive."
She laughed bitterly, sucking in air and letting her weight fall against him. "No, no. I saw him.. He's.. He's not.." She sighed and tried to erase his last words, closing her eyes as tightly as she could. Andrew took in another breath and kissed her shoulder, blood and all, loosening his iron grip on her.
"Then tonight we will mourn."