[IC] Artanis

[TheMinorFall]

After retracting his blade Cain listened wordlessly to the man. He was no longer a threat, but Cain's guard was never down. "Noted." Was his response to the notion of being more careful. Next time, he would be sure to sense the threat before an attack was launched.

Amuné was dissatisfied with him though, and that was a problem he would fix. He looked at her face, and then to the man. "I was not aware--" he looked at Amuné again, "I was wrong." He admitted. He was apologizing more to her than the man, but the strange thing was that part of him meant it. He looked back to the man and, against his better judgment, removed his hidden blade and held it out. "I will come back for this upon leaving." @shylarah

[shylarah]

The girl searched Cain’s face, apparently looking for something in his eyes. Whatever it was, she didn’t seem to find it. However she didn’t elaborate, just looking vaguely disappointed. “Very wrong,” she agreed, shaking her head. The guardsman accepted the knife. “I’ll make sure 'tis waitin’ for you at the gatehouse, when you’re ready ta leave,” he said. “C’mon, lass, me brother be waitin’ fer you, and ye have nae e’en changed.” Kirk gave the child’s hair a ruffle, only for her to scrunch up her face and duck away. “Noooo~ You’ll mess up my hair!” The protest was more playful than anything else, and with a last glance at the assassin, Amuné set off across the yard towards the dormitories.

((You’re welcome to go to Administration, to Mrs. Martinez’s office. She’s headmistress of the school, and is expecting him to be by. Ms. Primm will be there too. If you need me to, I can figure out what it looks like, and or describe those two.))

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

Being stripped of his weapon did in no way make him less dangerous. There was enough metal on his body to form ten blades, but giving a potential enemy the illusion of safety was Assassin 101. He made his way to the Administration building and stepped in. He said nothing upon entry, only placing his writ upon the attendant's desk.

This time he was silent because in his mind, he was trying to work out what had just happened. He had acted, not out of his own safety, but that of the girl's. Yes that was his mission, but objective was not in mind during his action. He mulled this over until he was shown into an office.

[there you go. Now you can describe them ( ..); ]@shylarah

[shylarah]

It was possible one of the ladies was busy, or had not yet arrived. It might have been the subtle games of societal maneuvering that were so common among the nobility. Whatever the case, it was several minutes before Cain was shown to the door with the headmistress’s name engraved on the plaque mounted upon the door. The room beyond was somewhere between an office and a study. Several bookshelves, most with books but a few with various bric-a-brac lined two of the walls. A large bay window in the third looked out at the school and grounds, and a painting by a renown artist hung near the door. The rug was quality material, as were the furnishings and decor, but there was an air of formality to the room, despite personal touches such as framed pictures.

Two women watched him enter, one seated behind the large desk, the other in a chair to one side. The latter was approaching the upper end of middle age, with an expression like she smelled something unpleasant. Rusty brown hair streaked with gray was pinned up in a severe bun, and her grey eyes were narrow. The other lady was slightly younger, her dark blond hair pulled back from her face to fall past her shoulders in a cascade of gentle waves. Intelligent brown eyes regarded the newcomer with an impassive expression, giving the impression of a pending judgement.

“Please, have a seat.” The second woman waved to an empty chair that faced her desk. “I am Irene Martinez, Liddell’s headmistress. Sofia Primm is one of the caretakers and chaperones for our students. How might we be of service to the Department of Royal Special Affairs?”

((Sorry for the delay, @TheMinorFall, I was worn out yesterday and didn't get to posting. ^.^;; ))

[TheMinorFall]

Cain felt no need to sit, but it seemed like more of a command than a polite offer. He sat in the chair indicated, his posture erect as a statue. With his ragged, deep voice he replied, "You are under evaluation of practice. As the representative of the Department of Royal Special Affairs, I am to choose one student and follow said subject for whatever duration I see fit to better understand what you do here. The goal of this object is to potentially improve your processes, but if needed, you will be liquidated as an establishment. I am to be granted unhindered access to the entire campus and given room and board. Additionally, I hold Authority to match my employers. Do you have questions?"

He finished his spiel and darted his eyes to the Primm woman. She was sizing up his appearance, while the other was sizing up something more. What could it be, he wondered?

"If not, there is a child in particular that I have already chosen."
@shylarah

[shylarah]

Ms. Primm pursed her lips. Her face held more of frown than it had a moment before. She had judged the man and found him wanting. He had not introduced himself properly. His clothing was highly questionable, his mask peculiar, his face mutilated -- and he wanted access to the students? They should write a sternly-worded letter back to the Department, and tell them to send someone better-suited to the task. What sort of an insult was this?

The headmistress was harder to read. The mention of evaluation was expected -- but liquidation came as a surprise, and one graceful eyebrow arched upward in response. “I appreciate the Department’s concern regarding the education of those who will inherit the duties of supporting this kingdom,” she said, giving Cain a pleasant smile, though the expression was tight. “But some of the things you mentioned concern me. Tell me, mister...ah...?” She waited for him to fill in his name before continuing. “Yes, thank you. Tell me, why does the Department feel it necessary to make such threats? I realize the Liddell Academy is not one of the oldest such schools, but we are numbered among the most respected. We have consistently met, if not exceeded, the required standards in all areas.” She did not say it as a boast, but instead as a fact to support her statements. “I cannot think of any reason someone might wish us closed, save perhaps those of rivalry with other such facilities. If an issue of which I am unaware has come to the attention of the Department, I would hope they would inform me and give us time to address it, instead of hanging the threat of being shut down over our heads.” The lady’s voice remained calm, but her words held a polite caution. She and her husband were well-connected. A move against them -- or against other noble families by way of the children in her care -- would not be without consequences.

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

There was a momentary pause when the woman asked him his name. He stated it simply, and continued listening. "Your concerns and opinions are noted. Off the record, I have to agree with you. It is illogical to threaten such a record of efficient activity. However, I am simply a tool, hand selected for my observation and deductive reasoning skills. My employers insisted I be polite, but I have difficulty with this. I was told that the individual in charge would be informed of my... condition." He wasn't sure that was the correct word, but it seemed like the easiest way for the women to process what he was saying. He looked at Primm, studying the disdain that painted her face and wondered if his lack of stature would be a hindrance to his ability to perform. "My report will be objective. I will base my assessment on the information provided me and the data I collect upon observation. If your record is as impressive as you claim, your concern is irrelevant."

He looked back at he headmistress. "The department has reviewed last quarter's reports, and shows interest in a Miss Amuné Ris. I will observe her first." He said, standing and beginning to make his way out.

The rules and manners of society were of no consequence in his mind. Excusing one's self, introductions, and pleasantries served no purpose. Therefore he didn't waste his time with them. It was time to see just what his employer was so interested in about Amuné. @shylarah

[shylarah]

Mrs. Martinez considered his reply, and nodded slightly. “I understand. I will get in touch with someone aware of the details.” She was still reserving judgement on certain things, but she had been satisfied as to the breech of etiquette, and that it would do her little good to demand further answers. When Cain mentioned his choice of student, however, both women reacted with surprise. The chaperone was suspicious, and irritated. If he was going to be shadowing Amuné, that meant Primm would have to deal with him as well, and she disliked him already.

The headmistress, however, was more concerned. “Miss Ris? I take it you are aware of her, ah, unique circumstances?” It was a tactful way to say that she was orphaned, and that the school could easily have turned her away. “Her magic is most unusual...I wonder if that’s the cause for concern. There really isn’t anyone to train her, beyond the basics -- and believe me, I have looked.” The woman steepled her hands in front of her, her gaze unfocusing for a moment as she considered. “I should caution you, I do not know how well she will take to your presence -- she’s extremely selective in those she likes. She can be difficult, and occasionally wayward, though nothing she’s never done anything overly outlandish, considering her age and upbringing. Still, she needs careful handling.” In truth, the girl was unpredictable even at the best of times, and Ms. Martinez was concerned that she would try to avoid him, or refuse outright to let him anywhere near her.

“I will see to it that a set of rooms are prepared for you.” The lady didn’t bother with putting any rebuke into her tone. Cain was not the one who had written the letter, or if he had it was already evident that he had a poor grasp of social customs. “Let the servants know if you need anything -- and when you expect your belongings to arrive.” The manner of his arrival had not been overlooked, and she had drawn her own conclusions from the details. “I’ll let them and the staff know you are to be permitted access anywhere you need to go, within reason. Of course, propriety demands that you avoid the girls’ dorms after a certain hour, and I can’t guarantee how happy any given person will be if you enter their room or suite. I must also insist that you avoid disrupting classes while you are present.” Mrs. Martinez rose from her chair and came around the desk to see him to the door of her office. “If you need to speak with me, please do not hesitate to let the secretary know. I hope the Department will find everything is to its satisfaction.”

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

Cain stopped an allowed the Headmistress to approach. Listening to everything with his statue-like posture, he inquired, "Miss Ris requires special consideration and you place her under the care of a woman who has already decided her opinion of me? Primm is clearly narrow-minded." He said, just before pulling a stained sheet of parchment and a crude pencil out from under his chest plate and jotting notes down. "I require only one room to sleep in and direction to a place I can clean myself. I have brought my belongings on my person, although your man has my weapon." He reached up and pressed his thumb to her forehead. "In the culture I was raised, when respect was shared between two people doing business, the... Member of my group would provide a means of communication." He lifted his thumb to reveal a small, red circle that quickly faded into her skin. "If you should require me in return, simply call for me."

With that he shook her hand and asked to be directed to where Amuné did her 'practice'. @shylarah

[shylarah]

“Ms. Primm is one of the few who is not put off by the girl’s...unusual gift.” The headmistress lifted her head at the implication that her judgement was lacking. “She was the only chaperone available that was willing to accept Miss Ris after learning of her power. Furthermore, her credentials are in good order, and she has been well recommended. I would hope you look at the entire picture, instead of drawing hasty conclusions.” If that was how the man would conduct his review, then she worried what he might say.

When he touched her forehead she took a swift step back, posture stiffening and her hands curling into fists. Had he not been so obviously ill-suited to polite society, she would have slapped him. As it was, she found herself questioning his suitability for the task he was to perform. “I will tell you plainly, because as you say, you are not very familiar with etiquette. A man does not touch a lady without her permission. If you intend to use magic upon someone else, you should ask first.” Her brown eyes fixed him with a stern glare. She would have to keep an eye on him, she decided. It was unlike the Department to be so...short-sighted. There must be other interests at work behind the scenes. However she smiled and shook the offered hand. “Miss Ris should be in the practice yard, between the stables and the barracks toward the gate.”

When the door closed behind Cain, she turned to have a serious discussion with Sofia, regarding the new arrival, the Department, and their interest in Amuné.

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

Nalta Wölfe lounged on a large, velvet sofa. He wore undergarments of silk and a velvet robe. With his head perched upon his hand he regarded the woman sleeping at his side with mischievous amusement. It was just past the middle of the day, but he had a way of tiring people out. His choppy, light brown locks of hair were falling elegantly just past his chin and over his brow, partially hiding his eyes from the messenger who had just walked in.

"Don't worry, he's the perfect man for this job. I know you doubt him, but Cain has a rather... delicate touch when it comes to these things."

"Delicate, sir?" The messenger asked, "Have you seen his dossier? The man was once reported to have killed eight men with nothing but a wooden spoon."

"Yes, and if you remember, that particular report was made because not a single drop of blood hit the floor of the crime scene. It wasn't until witnesses made report that the authorities knew where it happened." The aristocratic man replied condescendingly.

"But sir, any good killer is going to cover his tracks. That doesn't make him-" the messenger was cut off again by the regal one.

"He wasn't covering anything. That's not his MO. He did it because there were others there and would be in the future. The target was stricken with an infectious disease, and he knew this. You see, Cain does his research. He gathers intelligence and background before he even makes a plan. He knew the man had disease and was not about to allow another to be infected and die before due time. That is why I chose him. Let's just pray that he conducts himself with some degree of manner. I've heard tell of the proper nature of that school. They do teach propriety there, I suppose, but they're courtesies and customs bore me." He finished his spiel with a sigh as he got to his feet and disappeared into another room. He had to et ready to attend his occupation as Lord Wölfe, Director of Special affairs. As a front, he made sure things in the capital ran smoothly. His real job was one of secrecy and dark purpose. He was very careful to cover his tracks and loose ends, most of with were face down in the dirt. Any that were not dead were either still working for him, or in fear of being visited by Cain. They knew Wölfe's assassin as "The Masked Demon".

****

Cain locked his cold metallic eyes on the headmistress when she insinuated this sight was narrow. His reply was almost colder than his speech was before, "She was the only one willing to accept the girl, yes, and she has credentials to fit her position. I have done reconnaissance already. The girl is orphaned, and Miss Primm has a tendency to treat her with a certain level of contempt that, by my observation, she does not hold to other children. An establishment of such merit should not exercise prejudice, especially," he shifted his eyes to Primm, "when the evaluator is both a magic user and a shifter." He looked back to the headmistress, "Additionally, I told you before, I hold authority equal to that of my employer: the Director of Special Affairs. He answers only to the monarchy. I was given permission to use the most efficient means necessary for my objective to be completed in a timely manner. Next time, I shall ask."
**
Cain found the practice yard from the top of the admin building. Once it was in his sight, he sighted Amuné and the man from before. He made the Ne handsign and melted into a shadow under the shingles of the roof he sat upon. He followed the shadows across campus and into the shade of a building on the edge of the practice yard. This was the best way to travel unsighted. He would seem to be everywhere and nowhere by the staff, which would create a level of fear he needed them to have. This way, they would fear him enough to heed what he said. He re-gained his form and stepped out into the yard to see what exactly they were 'practicing'.
@shylarah

[shylarah]

Various people were in the practice yard, including the girl in question. She’d changed out of her dress and now wore loose pants and a long-sleeved shirt that obviously saw a lot of rough use. In addition to Kirk, there were two other men with her. One was the guard from the day at the market, the one she’d called Fitz, and another one roughly the same age as the other two. Between the three of them, they seemed to be working on teaching Amuné how to fend off multiple enemies at once. The girl seemed to do alright keeping track of where they were, but she was having trouble keeping herself away from them. Even as Cain approached, the guard he’d threatened earlier got her from behind, countering her attempts to extricate herself from his grip and tossing her to the dirt. The child hit the ground in a roll, but didn’t manage to get enough leverage to flow back to her feet, ending up flat on her back instead.

“Kirrrrk, no fair!” she complained, accepting the hand he offered to pull her back to her feet. He just laughed. “Fights are nae fair, lass,” the other redhead told her, shaking his head. “And with you runnin’ off all the time, you need to know how to handle a group. I dinnae want to see you turn up like that day at th’ market again, you hear me?”
“...Yes Fitz.” Amuné ducked her head and kicked at the dirt. He started to ask if she was ready for another round, but instead looked over as Cain entered the yard, subtly moving so he was between the girl and the new arrival. The shift of his focus wasn’t lost on her, however, and she leaned to the side so she could look past Fitz and see who it was. “Cain?” she asked, surprised but not upset, waving a greeting. “I thought you said dinner. I’m busy right now.”

The child might have been glad to see him, but the three guards were considerably more wary. Kirk waved the third one closer, and said a few words too softly too be overheard from a distance. He might have permission to be on campus, but his actions had not been forgotten, nor overlooked.

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

The girl was safely learning some kind of defense. The trainers' attitudes toward her were significantly more positive than the Primm woman. Cain deduced that their status in society was lower than the caretaker, otherwise they would hold greater disdain for Amuné. They were wary of Cain, exactly as he had intended. He wanted to test their resolve to protect Amuné, and had found them satisfactory.

"Continue training, Amuné. I too am busy." He said, standing unwavering. His gaze was not on her though. It was scanning the men training her as the one he recognized spoke into the ear of another. Without evidence of his action, he sent shadow scries out to dark places all around him. If some kind of attack or offensive move was launched on him, he would see it coming. These scries were the same kind he had once used to hunt down a target in thick woods. Every tree the target passed that had a scry on it, notified Cain. He'd herded the target into a clearing with extremely fine wires stretched to high tension across at three levels.

That target was presented in pieces.

He drew himself from though of past sins and returned his focus to the present. "Continue your lesson, Mr. Kirk." He commanded coldly. If he could push the man far enough, he might be able to get Kirk to arrange an exhibition in which he would b able to illustrate his power and thus put himself above the rest of the staff.

The only thing was, he suspected Amuné would be displeased with this tactic. This interfered with Cain's plan. A plan that caused his charge distress was unacceptable, yet it was most efficient. Would he have to use an intermediate level of efficiency to keep her free of discomfort? He stood there, watching and calculating in the shade of that building. @shylarah

[shylarah]

There was no attack; there was not even a lurking observer. Kirk was simply filling his coworker in, letting him know a bit more about the encounter earlier. When Cain said he was busy, but didn’t leave, the guard gave him a speculative look. “Here, ye be a good fighter. How ’bout you an’ I have a go, aye?” His pride stung after being so thoroughly bested earlier, and he wanted to get a better idea of what the visitor was capable of.

Amuné gave the guard an unreadable look. She was picking up on the uncertainty and tension that came from the men around her, and she wasn’t sure she liked the feeling, nor what it might mean. It wasn’t entirely friendly, but Cain wasn’t really a threat. Even though he’d rattled Kirk, and shown the man up, that was a misunderstanding. She didn’t want her friends fighting. It was always awkward, being friends with two people that didn’t get along, especially if they had to be around each other a lot, and she wasn’t sure what she could say to make it better. In the end she said nothing, just turning to see how Cain would respond.

((@TheMinorFall And I don't think we need to detail much of the fight either, since I'm pretty sure Cain is /much/ better than Kirk -- the guard won't go down easy, and he'll have suggested no weapons. Just gotta see Cain going overboard and causing deliberate harm that would not be expected in a spar, and Amune will jump in.))

[TheMinorFall]

Cain tilted his head slightly at the notion. A go? Was the man suggesting a fight? He stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight. He had sparred before, as a child and into his preteenage years. He was thirteen when he reached the rank of master assassin. He made three handsigns: Tora, Uma, and holding on Mi. His armor plates shot off his body and lodged into the ground. He left his mask on, but peeled his shirt down, tying it around his waist. His body was like a marble statue of the highest quality sculpting. Every muscle and tendon seemed to have definition, even more so when he moved. It was like he hadn't an ounce of fat on him, and his muscles were built lean and toned. Clearly he was built for speed, but his strength was undeniable. His skin was almost as pale as the Roman statues too, not counting the intricate array of runes and spell incantations tattooed over every inch of him from the jaw line down to his firngertips and toes. The only thing that broke the flow of the markings were the scattered scars of many years of his training and fighting. Cain's body was a walking display of his history. Once he was ready to fight he stepped into the actual yard and took stance, but before anything. He spoke to Amuné.

"Am I still not to hurt this man?" He asked, peeking over his shoulder to her with metallic eyes. This was a bad time to let his guard down, but he doubted that Kirk would kill him. @shylarah

[shylarah]

Kirk stepped forward, not removing any of his own clothing. He was dressed roughly already, and saw little to gain in removing his shirt. Besides, that wasn’t something he wished to do with the girl watching. The scars covering the other man’s skin was impressive, and he was in superb shape. Have to watch this one, I will, Kirk thought to himself as he squared off. “No weapons -- an’ no magic, I dinnae have any o’ that meself, so ‘twouldn’t be fair,” he said, smiling broadly. “James, ye want to count us off?”

The third guardsman, the one with the dark eyes and darker hair, nodded assent. A number of others in the yard had noticed the pair preparing for a match, and were watching as well. They were curious -- and some had heard about the little display earlier.

Amuné didn’t answer Cain’s question right away. The girl was taking in the network of scars and tattoos across his torso, her expression somewhere between sympathetic and curious. When she realized she’d been addressed, her gaze moved up to his face, and she nodded. It was an odd question. Spars were friendly, didn’t he know that? The fact that he needed to ask made her uneasy.

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

He had his answer. Cain turned his focus back to Kirk. No weapons or magic? The fight was still unbalanced, although the ex-assassin was restricted to not only non-lethal, but force not to facilitate injury.

He bladed and and widened his stance, tightening his arms' positions to guard his torso. The sheer control of the movement caused a few of his joints to pop. "Then I will drop my protective Ward." He said. He always had a thin magical barrier as a second skin. He flexed slightly, dispersing the barrier with force that kicked dust up from the ground. " I am ready." He said, addressing the guard called James.

He wasn't sure how he would go about this fight. To neutralize the threat without death or bodily injury, he began to consider pressure points. The bracheoplexis origin, sub-clavicle nerve, zyphoid process, and supra-scapular nerve would facilitate a subduing of Kirk. After that, he could either use kii-tü. This was his clan's secret technique. His engagement was planned, now all he had to was execute it. @shylarah

[shylarah]

Kirk nodded at James as well, adopting a ready stance, and the dark-haired guard counted down from three. On start, Cain’s opponent started circling, wanting to see what the other man’s first move would be. His manner was very different -- and it concerned the guardsman. Particularly if the wee lass liked him, and it seemed she did, he wanted to know more about Cain.

(SHORRRT. Go ahead and beat him up. I trust you to show that he knows what he’s doing but is still outmatched. They’re guards to protect kids, not to foil assassinations. Probably uses a combination of targeted strikes and regular fisticuffs, with a side of wrestling.))

@TheMinorFall

[TheMinorFall]

He could tell right away that Kirk would fight like an animal. His stance was loose, not incorrect or lacking experience, but somewhat sloppy to Cain's eye. He was a highly trained assassin, after all. To the layman's eye, it was just another stance from a learned fighter. Cain didn't move, he allowed Kirk to circle him like a dog. He would need whatever upper hand he could attain, and Cain would allow him that. False hope was as much a tool as technique. It was mental, and that was how he likes to do things.

Kirk didn't attack from behind he seemed to have a sense of honor. Instead, too weary of the unmoving figure that was Cain, he came nearly full-circle and attacked from a frontal angle. A single opening punch lashed out. It was the punch of a man more confident in strength and heart than form. It was to Cain's right, headed for his mandible. He snapped both hands up. His right hand slapped the inner forearm of his opponent, while his left simultaneously slapped Kirk's hand down from the opposite side. This action both shut the man's strike down and hyperextended his elbow, without breaking it. The pain was enough to stun a man, but Kirk was resilient. Cain hadn't factored heart into his plan. The gaurdsman landed a solid, potentially planned left hook. It seemed to land harder than the man had intended, cracking one of Cain's ribs. He herd the bone give a little. No matter, he was still in motion. With the primary striking arm momentarily out of commission, Cain's open, right hand came off the man's forearm and snapped back, striking the side of Kirk's neck, rattling the man just long enough for Cain to expertly bring the same hand down, shoving his middle and ring finger under his clavicle. This action induced pain, causing the man to involuntarily lean downward.

With his left hand still on Kirk's right wrist, he opened up the space between them. This would allow a low, right handed strike to the zyphoid process and solar-plexis, but another unexpected move took place. Kirk landed a surprise palm strike to Cain's chest. The ex-assassin actually had to plant a foot to keep from staggering. He had to change tactic. He turned, pivoted, and hyperextended Kirk's right wrist while throwing the man over his shoulder in a rolling motion.

Kirk landed flat on his back in the dirt of the training yard. He coughed to get back the wind that was knocked out of him, but the fight was over.

Cain turned to Amuné and dropped to his right knee. His left arm rested on his leg knee and his right fist was against the ground. His eyes seemed to be trying to burn holes in the ground as he addressed her, "Objective complete. Opponent neutralized with minimal bodily damage." He began to choke at the second to last word. A hematoma was forming on his right side over his cracked rib, causing a blotchy purple hue to show in the skin. His augmented body was already trying to heal, calcifying the bone and sweeping noticeably. He would be healed in a few days, but for the moment, he was experiencing pain. The strange thing, for those observing, he was barely reacting. He didn't process the pain like a normal person. He acknowledged it, but panic and fear that usually came with pain in a normal person was entirely absent. @shylarah

[shylarah]

Amuné didn’t like watching the fight, but she couldn’t look away. From her guard friend she felt anger and unease. From Cain, nothing. She gasped when Kirk got thrown, and she wasn’t sure how to respond to her new friend kneeling before her. The guardsman was already getting to his feet, a rueful expression on his face, but the other man was choking and he was hurt. “You hurt him!” she said accusingly, glaring at Kirk as she went to Cain’s side. “Sorry lass -- cannae entirely avoid it. As well ye know, I think.” The girl flushed, but her focus stayed on making sure Cain was alright. Kirk moved a little closer, but he wasn’t sure his help would be welcome, and he didn’t seem to realize the man was having real trouble. “I did get ye better than I meant. My apologies.”

The child, however, was very upset. “Cain? Cain, are you okay? Can you get up? We should see the physician -- he can help!” He was having trouble breathing but he seemed so calm -- it confused and unnerved her, but mostly she just wanted to make sure he would be alright.

@TheMinorFall