I have only enough time to glance over my shoulder to see the Roe trying to recover before his body is cleaved in half. Blood and entrails splatter over the wooden porch beneath him, and all I can think is how much effort it will be to clean up. Whatever, whoever, did it was rather swift. But I can see the figure now stepping closer to the shop, halberd in hand, crimson fluid painting the weapon.Â
Fight or flight is the urge that burns in my veins. With fractured ribs I doubt it'd be much of a fight. Without my bow and quiver, or bone fists, all I have is my battered body. Much good fists will do against a Dragoon. Sitting up to press my back against the wall, the person is upon me, aiming the spear head at me.Â
Really? Why would I be robbing my own shop! Brows furrow a little together, but I sigh softly. "Friend, not foe. I'm the one being robbed." And the one getting the shit kicked out of me by a Roe. Â I don't allow that last part to leave my lips.
![[Image: 2dre0lj.png]](http://i62.tinypic.com/2dre0lj.png)
Chika Ito ---- Carter Perish ---- Cora DuBois ---- T'rahz Vashka
