Clang. There goes my sword.
Crack. There goes my left arm. Damn, why did I have to be born a southpaw?
I feel the air tension shift ever so slightly, backed up by the crack of a fallen branch. Someone is probably behind me, and I acknowledge that whoever was behind me is probably going to attempt to end my life within the following 30 milliseconds. If I wish to enjoy my life at the moment, there is no option but to constantly shuffle out of the way, evading every single one of this assailant’s strikes.
Honorbound ‘til the end, I turn deftly to my left until the silhouette of this assailant brushes against my eyesight. For a split second, I realize that the person behind me might not be an enemy after all. Startled, I stumble and slip on a moss-covered rock, inconveniently placed beside me, and land square on my back. “Hiss…” I say. “I’ll be feeling that one for the next few weeks.”
It takes me a moment or two for me to remember that there was someone else within my immediate area. I look upwards to lock eyes with whomever I’m dealing with, only to find that they’re outstretching their right arm towards me, offering to help me up. “Let me help you up, you idiot.”
I meet her right arm with my own right arm and loftily let myself get back on my feet. Once I grab my footing once more, she proceeds to quickly examine me. “With your strong arm all busted up like that, there’s no way you’re hitting the battlefield anytime soon. Turn around and limp your way back to the campsite, and pray you don’t run into any bears on the way.”
“I can’t just leave you alone, Stephanie. There are at least two dozen enemy soldiers stationed within these woods. If I had a hard time--”
“Shut up.” Her teeth begin to grind against each other. “You don’t know what it’s like for a girl like me to be constantly living in the oppressive shadow of a man that’s heralded as being universally better than her.”
The atmosphere is beyond tense, and all I can murmur in response as my shoulders begin to droop is Stephanie’s name. As I try to voice an apology, she cuts me off once more. “Listen, Benjamin, for both of our sakes… Get off your accursed high horse and listen to me,” she said.
“This is the last time I’m putting this nicely: Go back to the damned campsite. You’ll only slow me down if you force me to drag you around like a damned slug.”
I cringe a bit and glance at my limp left arm. With a defeated attitude and a pair of slumped shoulders, I cautiously slip away from the battlefield without drawing any attention from any opposing infantry. Once I’m far enough away from danger, I worriedly look back down the road I just came from and mutter under my breath.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Can I ship it? I think they're super cute hehe. Props to both Stephanie and Benjamin for serving.