Flynn is sorry, because while he is a warrior, and a dutiful one at that, this is the first time he's watched life drain at his own hands. He takes several hits from claws and teeth, darts back in after one to make sure his own grim task is done, and ends up covered in blood—the beast's and his own—for the effort. It trails sluggishly from his shoulder and from his belly where a claw got through the mail he wears, and Flynn stays close and watches the life drain from Nehan and tries his absolute best to keep his stomach where it is. His head is a mess of static and guilt, details etching themselves into his skull: the broken twist where there should be none, the blood and the trashing, the way the churned ground feels under his boots.
He stays until Nehan is still, because he's dutiful, but he murmurs his apology in a tiny, breathless voice all the same, because Flynn has never done this.
Only when the beast is truly and finally still does he step toward Diluc to offer silent support. ]
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Flynn is sorry, because while he is a warrior, and a dutiful one at that, this is the first time he's watched life drain at his own hands. He takes several hits from claws and teeth, darts back in after one to make sure his own grim task is done, and ends up covered in blood—the beast's and his own—for the effort. It trails sluggishly from his shoulder and from his belly where a claw got through the mail he wears, and Flynn stays close and watches the life drain from Nehan and tries his absolute best to keep his stomach where it is. His head is a mess of static and guilt, details etching themselves into his skull: the broken twist where there should be none, the blood and the trashing, the way the churned ground feels under his boots.
He stays until Nehan is still, because he's dutiful, but he murmurs his apology in a tiny, breathless voice all the same, because Flynn has never done this.
Only when the beast is truly and finally still does he step toward Diluc to offer silent support. ]