He was still smarting, but in a rather good way. His father had absolutely destroyed him in battle and had done so with such finesse that his band had been left in no doubt that he was of noble blood. He'd be left with considerable bruising and a limp to his step for a while, but he had been delighted when his father had stepped in on behalf of his mother.
...Even he had known Arimathras was incapable of hurting anything.
He had even prepared himself to lose face when she returned, knowing that she would smart or hold back for fear of causing pain. To say he had been delighted when it had been his father who had roared in challenge was an understatement. Suffice it to say that on this occasion he would wear his injuries with pride, even if he did still have to perform his duties while he was recovering.
It was with this in mind that he now found himself reclining lazily near the border. Knowing his luck he wouldn't have a quiet day, but this afternoon he didn't mind that, he was in good spirits after all and today was a good day to die!
Zingling
