[color=c4df9b][b]Ettamri Belarence[/b][/color][hr]

A barred window, the blue of the sky so wide behind it. So wide, open and vivid. The white of the birds she saw seemed so pure and free. Her hands grasped the bar, recoiling as they seemed to bend like clay beneath her hands. The red clashing against the grey. Flesh against metal. A small child her own age, urging her to come out, her hands held out in friendship. Her hands were warm, her smile was friendly and understanding. Encouraging, and accepting. Yet... she had never accepted the black haired child's hands. 

For once... she had called out, held out her hand to another, only for them to be struck down within a day. Perhaps if she had been faster, perhaps if she had only used those cannon fodder better. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, those words swirled around within her..

Even within the maelstrom of her rage and grief, the small part of her, the child who had looked out the window and wished to be a bird, had already accepted the futility of her actions. There was no way for her to defeat an undead without sacred weapons or a priest. There was no way for her to survive past this. Perhaps in a way, dying would be better for her.

All she could do, was swing her fists as hard as she could.