Snippet #1483374

Having taken a seat on a bench somewhere near the center of camp, Sid was intent on wallowing in grim introspection heedless of the downpour...when a harpy decided to butt in. The halfling lifted her head from where she had been resting it in her palms and regarded Alistair with narrowed eyes. Eyes which immediately softened and gave way to tears. Sid wiped away the bitter tears with the back of her gloves and caught sight of several soldiers hauling off a black wooden box. From the bottom of the container rainwater mixed with a steady stream of blood dripping to the ground. A fresh fit of sobs wracked her tiny body forcing Sid to stare down at her lap.

"He did not...nobody, deserves that." it felt so surreal. She hadn't taken the time to realize how much things hurt until now. Even the time that she had witnessed Wrath being lashed for defending her upon first joining the Legion, insubordination or some such, Sid did not even shed a tear as she sat by the idiot's bedside. "I understand that he is a deserter....I can even understand martial punishment. Hell, even execution," Sid turned her wide-eyed gaze to meet Alistair's, "But I was pretty much raised with a bolt in my hand, nothing but armsmen and grunts for parents. They all knew what a bitch that life could be, and military life was on a whole 'nother level...they made sure I knew that too. I saw friends and brothers killed for war crimes before...

"But that was something else entirely." torture was the first word that came to mind. What really got to the captain though, was not so much the sheer brutality of it, but how nonchalant those passing by seemed. Was this really acceptable? Sid screwed up her face and quickly thought of a change of subject. "You're older than me, at least that's what your dossier said. Born before the dragons came back. Mitchel, one of my old caretakers, described your faction...um...the Savage? Yeah...he described them as relentless and depraved...but i've known orcs, minotaurs and a shitload of harpies, even a couple of lamia. Bedded some too." she smirked. "Besides a couple scars from orcish love bites, I don't really see it. Were you guys different before?"

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She was toying with him, that much Wrath was aware of. Being a man in his physical prime and having a body that just happened to react with nightmarians however, shut down most resistance he could have offered. No witty comments came to mind. The urge to deck the snarky bitch was superceded by a sudden need to...well, needless to say, both reactions involved physical contact in one form or another. As Neira circled him, Wrath was under the impression that he was prey backed into a corner. "Well?" her voice reached Wrath only distantly, barely audible over the thudding beat in his chest, "If I were male and you of the blood, you'd probably want to kill me right now. As it is, the feeling should be distinctly more... pleasant, no?"

Wrath swallowed hard and averted his gaze. Without realizing it he had latched onto his seat with such force that the wooden grain of the chair cracked and splintered slightly. In his haste to put space between Neira and himself within the suffocating confines of the tent Wrath practiacally flew from the chair to his bed. He turned around and slid backwards until his back was agains the canvas. From the bed he glared at Neira with an expression caught somewhere between confusion, anger and fear. "P-pleasant is not...the word I would necessarily use to describe it." a lie, though he could not tell how obviously it showed. His skin still burned around the plates which she touched.

Blood was roaring in his ears now and it was a struggle not to move. What was truly frightening was that Wrath felt the need to move closer. With the power of the pendant, it would have been a simple matter to put Neira in her place...but that was inside his desk; Which the dark-skinned nightmarian was placed in front of. Wrath tried to clear his head, but only succeeded in muddling his thoughts. Shit, it's never been this bad before- Damn I want to just bite- Is it stronger now?! I was never near her this long- Burning Dark man just fu- Shut up- I need that charm- I need to get out- But they'll see the plates- Dead gods those curves are so- Can't focus for a spell- Gah! All that in the span of a breath, of which came in shallow and ragged. Wrath stared at the nightmarian from his corner, managing a meek smile.

"You might as well...tell me what it is you see. There's a g-good chance that one, maybe both of us will die in tommorow's...battle..." the words trailed off mid-sentence. Wrath's pupils were widened with the airborn drug Neira was emitting to taunt him. Leave- No! Got to fu- Go away please...