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   there was no wind. yet the old pines vibrated anxiously. seated against one of them, was a rickety lad splashed with more grey than black, whispering prayers to his ancient-looking ax. staring at him in distress, penrod tensed his grip on his longsword. unlike his foe, he didn't know any prayers. "i will not fail you" was what he whispered, just before signaling the old man, i'm ready to dance. old man stood and within a breath he was on penrod. slashing beastly. penrod kept with him, parrying and blocking. and dance they did. he could see how he was losing to the old man already, the longsword was way heavy for his arm, so his breaths were getting more and more hectic. while the old man was adamant. penrod dodged a wicked chop, but got kicked in the chest for rewards. his lungs aching for air, eyes seeing spots, mercy was all his thoughts. which then transferred to leyna and i won't fail you. his plight gone, penrod assumed the form with aplomb now. slashing rights and lefts at air, hoping the swish of it would scare his foe to an err. but they only irked the old man, making him try for a two-handed downcut blow, growling. penrod matched the growl, more sincerely as he failed to block the blow, which landed somewhere near his left shoulder, was his guess. maddened by the pain, he crushed the old man's hand with the iron hilt of his sword. old man went down, his hand bending on a queer angle, his ax rooted in his foe. his eyes searched for his successor's, looking for mercy. but penrod only looked for death. old man lost his head with many clumsy one-handed cuts. though penrod felt little triumph. he knew he'd join his opponent soon. his knees were giving, his wits were waning. he found himself lying under the old pine, where his dead foe prayed not long ago. this dirt will be our graves, he though. "but i did not fail you" he said out loud "so why do i live?". "WHY DO I STILL LIVE LEYNAA?" he was yelling now, half-hoping she'd yell back. but the only respond was the flattering of startled wings. pouring fists of dirt on his lap, he tried to picture her; the menace in her eyes, in her smile, in her lies. he clung to the images till his mind could not see anymore. 8964 copyright protection153ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8r2FwrRtER 維尼

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