Eames is still standing by the corpse seconds after it had fallen, panting, his sword in his hand dripping with blood. He's shaking, from the adrenaline, from fear. He has a cut across his cheek, a shallow puncture wound in his arm where it had clawed him. He's dirty, soot smeared with blood down his arm, his shirt ripped there. His hair is hanging loosely in his face, dripping with sweat.
Rosella!
He gasps and turns to her. The dragon had hit her hard with its tail when she'd tried to help. He runs forward, dropping the sword halfway, and going to his knees. His voice is breathy and panicked.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-05-03 07:13 am (UTC)Rosella!
He gasps and turns to her. The dragon had hit her hard with its tail when she'd tried to help. He runs forward, dropping the sword halfway, and going to his knees. His voice is breathy and panicked.
"Rosella! Are you okay, love?!"