After Matters, after Mutts

The blood splattered, and the woman fell.

Luke pulled the sword out of his chest with both hands. “Idu… Kwxe.” shit. The bitch had really gotten him. But he could still feel for heat signatures. A child could have done that.

Child. The children were right there, holding their knives. Good kids.

“We’re clear. Nobody else within a mile.” He coughed, and spat out a Jasfe Tlacatl. There. His guts were back inside of him. “Myst…” he closed his mouth. “Mystral, sa’Oncoming Storm.” He dropped to one knee in the bloody grass. “I did not come home tonight to fight …ninjas.”

Don’t be a moron, Luke

Trying. The blood loss and the twitchy feeling of post-combat were not helping the situation.

“But we fight together. Like we move together.” The children were listening. He should be careful what he said. “We’re a team, Mystral. We should always be a team.” The ring was still there, in his pocket. Sapphire and diamond. He pulled it out, and offered it, in the palm of his hand. “Mystral, would you do me the immense honor of being my wife?”

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