(no subject)
[ Polyxena's death had been enough of a blow for the Trojan. Cassandra's death by one of his former Gods' hands had been the cherry on top of the cake. He had reverted into silence, blunt efficiency because anything else would just make him waste precious weapons against anything alien that moved. And the mocking words of those beings. Aeneas reviewed each and every one and allowed himself to feel angry as he seldom felt. She was a kid. She was just a kid. And Polyxena, she of all people had never harmed a soul.
There was no time to mourn though. So Aeneas remained quiet and to a corner, trying not to infect everyone with his mood, leaving quietly for food and water more than it should be necessary only to return stone-faced and still trapped.]
It's bad enough that.
They are killing us already. And you turn against each other? What.
...
I'm tired of this.
There was no time to mourn though. So Aeneas remained quiet and to a corner, trying not to infect everyone with his mood, leaving quietly for food and water more than it should be necessary only to return stone-faced and still trapped.]
It's bad enough that.
They are killing us already. And you turn against each other? What.
...
I'm tired of this.