It was rain for barren land, light for a lost ship's eyes, fire for the frost of winter and the cool breeze for summer's sweltering glare.
Life.
That is what she is. What she was and will forever be to me. As it then came to me that my mind had grown dull and agitated, not due to the demands of the battle, but because of her. Or rather the lack of her.
Almost like the early withdrawal symptoms of one who'd not taken his dosage of drug in much too long.
My fingers then gingerly reached out to brush her fair cheek, but they froze mid-action, as I heard her say with an edge of danger to her voice that I didn't immediately recognize.
"You're injured."
"Hmm? Oh, yes." I offhandedly said, suddenly remembering the gash I received from that Messer wielding warrior atop the walls, as I lifted my left arm and looked at the rapidly healing wound right above my ribs. "But it matters not."
"How can it not?" She demanded.
