Some people may consider getting slammed into the ground a minor injury, and people who consider that to be painful, are weak.
Now, Celosia knew that she wasn't the strongest person on Zenith--that encounter with Dhoulen had just proved that, actually--and she knew that on the strength scale, she was rather weak and helpless. But damn it, if people didn't think that what she was going through isn't painful, they weren't human. As simple as that.
Scrapes covered various body parts of the injured girl, including her knees, elbows, and face. Her torso would no doubt be covered in purple and black splotches by the next day. The arm that had been twisted behind her by that murderer still ached painfully, and blood ran down her cheeks from the various scrapes, marring her fair face. She could still feel the pressure of the blade upon her throat.
Above all that, the mental pain she was feeling was much more potent. To be so close, yet so far from her goal.... To be ridiculed and humiliated in front of people, to be tossed aside like she was nothing... Her wounded pride seemed to cause physical pain in her heart, and the feeling of failure weighed even more heavily upon her. She wasn't strong enough. Three years, and she still was nothing compared to the person she desired to kill. When would she ever have the chance again? It took her three years to stumble upon him, who knew when the next time would be? Would there even be a next time?
The disoriented girl didn't respond to any of the people kind enough to offer their help for a few moments. Not because she was being rude, but her mind was not with her at the moment. After a brief pause, her eyes slowly focused on the people around her, only half hearing their questions.
"Uh.... Y-yes, I'm fine, thank you...."
Now, Celosia knew that she wasn't the strongest person on Zenith--that encounter with Dhoulen had just proved that, actually--and she knew that on the strength scale, she was rather weak and helpless. But damn it, if people didn't think that what she was going through isn't painful, they weren't human. As simple as that.
Scrapes covered various body parts of the injured girl, including her knees, elbows, and face. Her torso would no doubt be covered in purple and black splotches by the next day. The arm that had been twisted behind her by that murderer still ached painfully, and blood ran down her cheeks from the various scrapes, marring her fair face. She could still feel the pressure of the blade upon her throat.
Above all that, the mental pain she was feeling was much more potent. To be so close, yet so far from her goal.... To be ridiculed and humiliated in front of people, to be tossed aside like she was nothing... Her wounded pride seemed to cause physical pain in her heart, and the feeling of failure weighed even more heavily upon her. She wasn't strong enough. Three years, and she still was nothing compared to the person she desired to kill. When would she ever have the chance again? It took her three years to stumble upon him, who knew when the next time would be? Would there even be a next time?
The disoriented girl didn't respond to any of the people kind enough to offer their help for a few moments. Not because she was being rude, but her mind was not with her at the moment. After a brief pause, her eyes slowly focused on the people around her, only half hearing their questions.
"Uh.... Y-yes, I'm fine, thank you...."