clothes, eyes shut tight, bloodied
Orvel frowns at the remarks. He
and in pain. One hand is held
stops next to the man, speaking
against his open chest wound,
down to him. “No, human. I had
and the other is clutched
only suggested.” He crouches
tightly around a crumpled
down and looks at him evenly.
piece of parchment.
“It was you who took the bait.”
It was the map Orvel had given
him.
“How unfortunate, human,” Orvel says,
“You never meant for me to
return…” the man whispers softly.
Orvel does not respond, but gently lifts the
stepping closer, fixing his eyes on the wounded man. “She
man’s limp arm from his chest. He quietly and quickly
left you to bleed.”
traces his finge