I wanted to kiss his forehead,
to do something that showed
my gratitude, that proved something
to this poor, dying creature. There
was nothing I could do. Already,
his eyes were exhibiting the blankness
of the dead. Blood soaked his tunic
and then my hands. While I turned
my palms over and over, gazing
at the life dripping down, I realized
I had not killed him directly, but the blood
of the elf was on my hands.
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