Rhaine
Flightless Bird
Nia didn't respond to Cassander's word, which he took no mind of. It was probable that she wasn't used to being called Rose and hadn't processed that his words were for her. He crouched at Sam's unconscious body. Though he could see his chest rising and falling, he still found his pulse as if to be sure, more at ease when he felt it leap against his fingertips. Sam's head and a few of his limbs were at awkward, haphazard angles, so he rearranged them almost absentmindedly to make him look less like a rag doll and more like someone who could pass as being asleep.
He listened as Nia spoke, though he only looked up briefly. He was uncertain on whether or not he shared her sensibility towards the circumstance. He felt only a bit of natural remorse or regret in the wake of the Orcs' death. He wasn't like Nia or Ru, though he didn't take pleasure in killing like Dan, to be sure. Certainly he was relieved to no longer be in immediate danger. That was his strongest feeling in regards to the matter. Their race had no impact on his opinion. He would have most likely felt the same if they were human. However, any respect he might have felt for them in death would have been a farce. He did not respect them as they lived. Any attempt on his part would have only been from the context of being morally superior to them, which though possibly untrue, he felt was inherent, and thus unnecessary to attempt. He gave no respect where he did not deem it was earned.
If one is willing to kill then one must be prepared to die. He thought almost bitterly. The ache rose up, though only slightly, and abated just the same. He remained crouched by Sam.
Ru was uncertain as to what Dan meant by a "ninja," but her heart leapt slightly at the transparency of care in his expression, and the close tone with which he addressed her. As always, she hung on to whatever he provided her in that sense, as she knew in her core that it was only fleeting. He so quickly turned distant. Still, though she might have wanted to, she could not meet the lightness of his slight laughter or speech. Her eyes found the Orc she had slain again. It was not something she was proud of, and certainly, she would think of it for years to come with no lack in pangs of conscience or contrition. She wondered once more, as she often did, what Arvan would think of her - of what she had done. Her hands were still stained with blood, and it itched at her incessantly.
"Neither did I." She replied, voice small.
She listened as Nia addressed them, and she gave a nod when she had finished. Respect for the dead was ingrained in her, in her culture, her upbringing, her values - not for the fallen's skill, but for their life on principle. A wicked life was still a life, and life, by nature, was change. It could have been different for them. If they hadn't died here, it could have still been different for them. She felt slightly sick at the thought, and she pressed a hand to her forehead, the drying blood leaving a mark on her face.
She set herself right well enough, focusing her thoughts on her previous intention. She had meant to inquire with everyone after their health, though now she remained still. She looked to the wolf, and her brow knitted. The wolf hadn't had any choice in the matter. She didn't know how they could have possibly avoided death without killing the Orcs. It almost hurt her to swallow such a fact, yet swallow it she must. She could so easily turn resentment towards herself, even knowing what a slippery slope that was.
She felt unbelievably old in that moment.
She looked up to the tree tops. "Should we make camp soon?" It was all she could manage to say at the moment.
Duke of Doge
TheCountryWarrior
Caffeine Freak
Nova Squid
ThisUsernameIsALie
The_Omega_Effect
He listened as Nia spoke, though he only looked up briefly. He was uncertain on whether or not he shared her sensibility towards the circumstance. He felt only a bit of natural remorse or regret in the wake of the Orcs' death. He wasn't like Nia or Ru, though he didn't take pleasure in killing like Dan, to be sure. Certainly he was relieved to no longer be in immediate danger. That was his strongest feeling in regards to the matter. Their race had no impact on his opinion. He would have most likely felt the same if they were human. However, any respect he might have felt for them in death would have been a farce. He did not respect them as they lived. Any attempt on his part would have only been from the context of being morally superior to them, which though possibly untrue, he felt was inherent, and thus unnecessary to attempt. He gave no respect where he did not deem it was earned.
If one is willing to kill then one must be prepared to die. He thought almost bitterly. The ache rose up, though only slightly, and abated just the same. He remained crouched by Sam.
Ru was uncertain as to what Dan meant by a "ninja," but her heart leapt slightly at the transparency of care in his expression, and the close tone with which he addressed her. As always, she hung on to whatever he provided her in that sense, as she knew in her core that it was only fleeting. He so quickly turned distant. Still, though she might have wanted to, she could not meet the lightness of his slight laughter or speech. Her eyes found the Orc she had slain again. It was not something she was proud of, and certainly, she would think of it for years to come with no lack in pangs of conscience or contrition. She wondered once more, as she often did, what Arvan would think of her - of what she had done. Her hands were still stained with blood, and it itched at her incessantly.
"Neither did I." She replied, voice small.
She listened as Nia addressed them, and she gave a nod when she had finished. Respect for the dead was ingrained in her, in her culture, her upbringing, her values - not for the fallen's skill, but for their life on principle. A wicked life was still a life, and life, by nature, was change. It could have been different for them. If they hadn't died here, it could have still been different for them. She felt slightly sick at the thought, and she pressed a hand to her forehead, the drying blood leaving a mark on her face.
She set herself right well enough, focusing her thoughts on her previous intention. She had meant to inquire with everyone after their health, though now she remained still. She looked to the wolf, and her brow knitted. The wolf hadn't had any choice in the matter. She didn't know how they could have possibly avoided death without killing the Orcs. It almost hurt her to swallow such a fact, yet swallow it she must. She could so easily turn resentment towards herself, even knowing what a slippery slope that was.
She felt unbelievably old in that moment.
She looked up to the tree tops. "Should we make camp soon?" It was all she could manage to say at the moment.
Duke of Doge
TheCountryWarrior
Caffeine Freak
Nova Squid
ThisUsernameIsALie
The_Omega_Effect
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