19 minutes gruelled on and on ... it seemed as though Stump was
victorious when he sheared not one but both of Bum's arms off.
Front Bum's arm had begun to swing, however, and severed or not it
continued along it's course. It's arc lead it to the neck bone of Stump.
The perfect edge of the sword went through his neck bone with a silent
hush that can only be described as beautiful, if violent sword induced
death can be described in such terms, which to these warriors it must.
Then a sound welled up from the silence, an agonised scream.Confused, Front looked to the de-bodied head of his fight partner.
No.
Not from him.
Front looked down to see that Ruddy Stumps sword had reached it's
goal, but AFTER the moment of his uncapitation. His lonely body's
final stab at life. Final stab, at death.
Front Bum's dying wail seemed like his soul escaping ... what his kind
believed to be a sweet reward.
On this day, neither would win the child.
So now, once again the child wins, and none are left to tell the tale.
3 comments:
'On this day, neither would win the child.'
'The like of which they would speak about for eleven centuries.'
'...except behind half closed doors.'
How was Antarctica, Squints? Hope you had a nice time. Glad you're back.
It was cold.
too too cold.
It smelled nice though, it smelled
like 'clean'.
Didja know? - that's where
they bottle clean.
In Antarctica.
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