Trying to make things right
Hans von Hammer, a crafty, clever man by anyone's estimation, and even a bit brilliant when it came to the specific subject of dogfighting, was also prone to bouts of undeniable stupidity. Oh, it wasn't the kind the stupidity that came from being dumb, no, it was the kind of stupidity that came from simply not thinking things through as well as he should. He had, in the past, sometimes said the wrong thing at the wrong time, looked to the wrong priority a time or two, and even been outright thoughtless at times. But he tried to recognize these flaws in his character and work to improve them, to be more thoughtful of others, more considerate, and, more importantly, more romantic and open when possible.
And now he had done something perhaps far more terrible than all the deaths attributed to him (His personal kill total was nearly eighty, though somewhat more than that was mistakenly given to his name as rumor and such flew).
He had, quite possibly, ruined the life of the woman he loved.
He had not meant to, of course, but he had been foolish enough to bring it about anyway. All he'd wished to to was entertain the children with a simple story from his many adventures. He had not even considered that Ali's grandparents might be unaware of his origins. Ali was so unique, so amazing, so absolutely versed in the fantastic that he had not even considered the possibility that her family would be unaware of some aspect of it.
And now it may have cost her dearly. The rest of the weekend had passed well enough, albeit rather strained at times. He believed he had returned home on reasonable terms... but in the depths of his drink he found that he was probably foolish to try and convince himself of that.
Not much time had passed at all, thankfully. He was not so stupid as to let something of this measure sit for a length of time. Instead, and not particularly caring if he would be missed, he sent a message.
My love,
I have much I must apologize for, I know. May I come see you?
Hans
And now he had done something perhaps far more terrible than all the deaths attributed to him (His personal kill total was nearly eighty, though somewhat more than that was mistakenly given to his name as rumor and such flew).
He had, quite possibly, ruined the life of the woman he loved.
He had not meant to, of course, but he had been foolish enough to bring it about anyway. All he'd wished to to was entertain the children with a simple story from his many adventures. He had not even considered that Ali's grandparents might be unaware of his origins. Ali was so unique, so amazing, so absolutely versed in the fantastic that he had not even considered the possibility that her family would be unaware of some aspect of it.
And now it may have cost her dearly. The rest of the weekend had passed well enough, albeit rather strained at times. He believed he had returned home on reasonable terms... but in the depths of his drink he found that he was probably foolish to try and convince himself of that.
Not much time had passed at all, thankfully. He was not so stupid as to let something of this measure sit for a length of time. Instead, and not particularly caring if he would be missed, he sent a message.
My love,
I have much I must apologize for, I know. May I come see you?
Hans