( It wonāt be much longer now... )
A sickly feeling swelled about his gut, the white cloth of his shirt soaked through with blood and Heine knows what else. He could feel the warmth of it even through the thick leather of his gloves, and the steady pulse of his heart as it continued to leave his body.
Though warmth permeated his hand, the rest of him felt cold. Somehow, the warrior was still on his feet, and he kept his concentration fixated at the tip of his gunblade. Or more precisely; making sure it didnāt touch the ground. With one hand at his core, the other held Lion Heart in a loose but determined grip.
He was sure this was the right direction, but felt as if he had been walking for ages. Nothing in his hazy vision seemed familiar, yet he pressed on, for if he stopped he would surely would never move his legs again.
ā ... āĀ
