[ While he manages to deflect another punch, sending back one fist of his own, he’s grabbed and thrown to the floor, knocking back a vendor’s stand in the process. Somnus, with the wind knocked from him, reels in disorientation before another fist knocks him back to his senses. His head snaps forward an instant afterward, and with a growl he gathers strength to retaliate with equal amount of ferocity and speed.
What results is a scuffle with fists and blows and dirt, messy, bloody, and damaging to both themselves and the goods around them. The fae may seem content to watch two otherworlders fight for sport, and even a few of them that gather around the brothers exchange gold between their hands. But when their shops are damaged, that is when the more shrewd of them decide enough is enough.
He feels himself dragged back by beneath his arms by two other horned fae. Not all of the blood on him is his own, and his knuckles are raw and bruised Somnus’ chest heaves for air, but each breath comes short and aching (when had he been struck in the chest? doesn’t matter), and his upper lip bleeds to his chin. Somnus scoffs, spitting to the ground as he wrestles his arms free from the bystanders, glaring at his brother who has been dragged a few meters back as well.
He should walk away, but he dares not turn his back to him so soon. There is no winner, and although he had defended himself, he… doesn’t at all feel better or satisfied. His sins stain the ground before them, and a gross injustice prevails so long as Somnus lives— and lives with the contentment that he had prevented his brother from ever having.
Where is he, the brother that once was? Somnus killed him. ]
no subject
What results is a scuffle with fists and blows and dirt, messy, bloody, and damaging to both themselves and the goods around them. The fae may seem content to watch two otherworlders fight for sport, and even a few of them that gather around the brothers exchange gold between their hands. But when their shops are damaged, that is when the more shrewd of them decide enough is enough.
He feels himself dragged back by beneath his arms by two other horned fae. Not all of the blood on him is his own, and his knuckles are raw and bruised Somnus’ chest heaves for air, but each breath comes short and aching (when had he been struck in the chest? doesn’t matter), and his upper lip bleeds to his chin. Somnus scoffs, spitting to the ground as he wrestles his arms free from the bystanders, glaring at his brother who has been dragged a few meters back as well.
He should walk away, but he dares not turn his back to him so soon. There is no winner, and although he had defended himself, he… doesn’t at all feel better or satisfied. His sins stain the ground before them, and a gross injustice prevails so long as Somnus lives— and lives with the contentment that he had prevented his brother from ever having.
Where is he, the brother that once was? Somnus killed him. ]
Ardyn.