10-28-2018, 08:24 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]There's movement in the wood - rushed pawsteps, low voices, and Bruces thinks of all the times he's stumbled upon less than friendly loners in his travels. He stands at Delilah's side, flanking the NPC only because he was ordered to. He keeps his head down, eyes cast only at the path ahead, but when the NPC gets antsy and tries to take out the day's woes on the Pitt's prisoner, he gives a hiss and demands the other Pitt member stand down. It's a tenuous attempt at letting Delilah know that he wasn't going to let them bring any more harm to her.
The voices grow closer and the hairs at the nape of his neck prickle. He feels that something again, the same feeling that rushed over him when he saw slaves gasping for mercy on their deathbeds. It's hope, maybe. A mix of hope and that raw, feral anger that pushed him ever closer to the edge.
Arrow emerges from the bushes and the NPC tenses, runs - a cowardly thing, overrun with fear at the sight of too many enemies for two Pitt members to take on alone. Bruce has to think fast but the knowledge of what he's about to do is already weighing heavy on his mind. The cheetah braces, watching the Tanglewood warriors approach one by one, and gives a warning lash of his tail. These attempts at looking menacing when he was trying to help them were halfhearted at best, but worked well when his clanmates already saw him as a useless pacifist among their soldiers.
"Run. Quickly." It's barely a whisper, just briefly passed from the unwilling guard's lips to Delilah's ear. He'd hold the Pitt here by causing a fight, he'd play stand-your-ground so she could run. She could escape if she moved now - her people were waiting for her. He'd say he was overwhelmed, he wasn't much of a fighter, she just got away. He'd take the consequences knowing one of these poor slaves made it home alive.
The voices grow closer and the hairs at the nape of his neck prickle. He feels that something again, the same feeling that rushed over him when he saw slaves gasping for mercy on their deathbeds. It's hope, maybe. A mix of hope and that raw, feral anger that pushed him ever closer to the edge.
Arrow emerges from the bushes and the NPC tenses, runs - a cowardly thing, overrun with fear at the sight of too many enemies for two Pitt members to take on alone. Bruce has to think fast but the knowledge of what he's about to do is already weighing heavy on his mind. The cheetah braces, watching the Tanglewood warriors approach one by one, and gives a warning lash of his tail. These attempts at looking menacing when he was trying to help them were halfhearted at best, but worked well when his clanmates already saw him as a useless pacifist among their soldiers.
"Run. Quickly." It's barely a whisper, just briefly passed from the unwilling guard's lips to Delilah's ear. He'd hold the Pitt here by causing a fight, he'd play stand-your-ground so she could run. She could escape if she moved now - her people were waiting for her. He'd say he was overwhelmed, he wasn't much of a fighter, she just got away. He'd take the consequences knowing one of these poor slaves made it home alive.
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[b]THOUGH WE REPENT AND DON SACKCLOTH AND TRY TO
MAKE NICE — YOU CAN'T CROSS THE SAME RIVER TWICE
MAKE NICE — YOU CAN'T CROSS THE SAME RIVER TWICE