trash on the walls, trash on the floors

S

uccess often came at a price - a hefty one that many paid for in their own blood.

The Imperial Army had proven their effectiveness in the face of adversary yet again, but they had paid a price in blood. Imperial blood stained the marbled floors of the castle, but they had thwarted the threat effectively. The King lives another day, and there were no lives lost. Despite their victory as a unit, there were personal failures to acknowledge. The Captain had managed to bring his man down with Kvothe's assistance, but it had nearly cost him the use of his right leg. Had he lost the functionality, he would have been discharged from service.

The cold reality was like a shock to the system - a rush of water crashing into him, and paralyzing his lungs. He had worked too damn hard to get to where he was now to watch it crash and burn because he hadn't been at his best. Once he healed, he would have to train harder. Perhaps Kvothe would be willing to assist him.

Today, he wouldn't be able to tackle his own demons, but maybe he'd be able to help Cyanide. She had been taken down despite her valiant efforts, and Ramses understood her to be a prideful wolf. He heard she sustained a terrible injury that would require a lot of bed rest, but she should be able to return to duty - eventually. Ramses was in a similar boat himself, but instead of total bed rest he was give reduced duties.

Ramses made sure to keep his weight off his hind leg as he traveled through the barracks in search of the dark wolfess. He heard she'd been holed up in her den, but he wasn't sure how accurate that information was. The Captain halted before the entrance and poked his head into the entrance. "Cyanide?"

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Cyanide