Everything was hazy to Crow in his half-conscious state. He was aware of the giant holding him up, of the blade pressed against his forearm, of the fact that he was in danger and needed to get away. But he couldn’t take it. His vision was painted scarlet, like the blood that trickled down from the gash in his palm. He started to wonder if it would be easier to just let himself pass out. Then at least he wouldn’t have to suffer a painful death.

His head lolled as he began to lose what remained of his consciousness, but a sharp pain brought him back to reality. The mercenary had dug the tip of his sword into Crow’s arm, tutting disappointedly, “[i]Kṣamin̄caṇḍi, kānī nēnu mim'malni veḷlanivvalēnu mariyu nannu navvin̄calēnu.[/i]” He lifted the blade to the thief’s head, using the flat side of it to force him to look up again. “[i]Mīru dāni sampūrṇatalō maraṇānni anubhavin̄cabōtunnāru.[/i]”

“[i]Mīru… oka pratyēka rakamaina vakrīkr̥ta. Adi nīku telusu?[/i]” Crow panted, curling his lip at the mercenary. He caught sight of a faint movement off to the side: Penelope was sneaking up on them. He quickly looked back at the mercenary, hoping to keep him distracted so she would have a chance to strike.

“[i]Nīku teliyadu,[/i]” the man smirked. Fortunately, he was still so preoccupied with tormenting his victim that he didn’t seem to have caught the motion. He shifted his sword slightly lower so it rested against Crow’s throat, and then chuckled as the thief recoiled from its touch. “[i]Nēnu iṅkā mī vidhiki rājīnāmā cēyalēdu.[/i]”

“[i]Idi ikkaḍa canipōvaḍāniki nā adr̥ṣṭaṁ kādu,[/i]” Crow answered simply. A subtle smile spread across his mouth, causing the other man to knit his brow in confusion. “[i]Idi nīdī.[/i]”

In the next instant, Penelope attacked and the mercenary was forced to release Crow in order to defend himself. The thief crumpled to the ground, still slightly dazed but also weak with relief. He averted his gaze as Penelope bashed the mercenary’s head in with a rock. He hoped the man was dead. Someone so sadistic didn’t deserve the mercy of being spared. 

When Penelope came over to ask if he was okay, he nodded. “I’m fine,” he said hazily, forcing himself to sit up. “I didn’t get nearly as beat up as you did. I’m honestly embarrassed I’m in such a pathetic state after just a few small cuts.” He shook his head and then glanced at the mercenary’s fallen body. “He knew about my aversion to blood somehow. I think he’d been following us for a while, because I’m not sure how he would have gotten that information otherwise.” He shuddered at the thought that this man had been lying in wait to kill them for so long. Whoever had sent him really wanted them dead. He just hoped this was the only professional killer that person had hired.

Crow looked up to meet Penelope’s gaze concernedly, “How are you doing? It looked like he was hitting you pretty hard.” His eyes roved over her body, landing on the arm she was clutching so tightly, and he frowned. He lifted a tentative hand and gently pulled her hand off of the injury so he could see it. The laceration was deep. The sight of it made him feel nauseated, so he looked away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “If I wasn’t such a useless fighter, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”

[hider=Translated section]His head lolled as he began to lose what remained of his consciousness, but a sharp pain brought him back to reality. The mercenary had dug the tip of his sword into Crow’s arm, tutting disappointedly, “Sorry, but I can’t let you go and faint on me.” He lifted the blade to the thief’s head, using the flat side of it to force him to look up again. “You’re going to experience death in its fullness.”

“You’re… a special kind of twisted. You know that?” Crow panted, curling his lip at the mercenary. He caught sight of a faint movement off to the side: Penelope was sneaking up on them. He quickly looked back at the mercenary, hoping to keep him distracted so she would have a chance to strike.

“You have no idea,” the man smirked. Fortunately, he was still so preoccupied with tormenting his victim that he didn’t seem to have caught the motion. He shifted his sword slightly lower so it rested against Crow’s throat, and then chuckled as the thief recoiled from its touch. “I see you haven’t resigned yourself to your fate just yet.”

“That’s because it’s not my fate to die here,” Crow answered simply. A subtle smile spread across his mouth, causing the other man to knit his brow in confusion. “It’s yours.”
[/hider]