His gloved fists slammed into the punching bag as hard as he possibly could manage. He was trying not to think. Exercise usually helped calm him. It settled his often boiling emotions and gave him peace of mind if only for a moment.
It wasn't helping this time.
No matter how many times his punches made contact, he couldn't seem to let go of his anger. He couldn't let go of his emotions. It happened every once in a while. He would bottle everything up and it would explode out of him when he least expected it.
He wailed on the bag; risking form for mere force. The bag swung back on him and at the wrong moment he punched. The sudden pain that reverberated up his knuckles shocked him and he sucked in a sharp gasp.
Torin paused, pulling off his gloves to make sure he hadn't injured himself. He was fine. Physically.
He was so far from okay.
Torin shook his head, running his hands through his hair. He felt like he could scream, or he could choke. And no amount of beating the punching bag was going to change that.