Nahollo had watched the other six get dragged away. After the first had been returned, any thought of raising a fuss, of making any kind of noise, had left him. The longer he had been forced to sit here, the longer he had felt an unfamiliar emotion simmering and stirring, something that was far more familiar to his past selves, but foreign in his current life.
Anger. Not irritation, not annoyance, not offense, but rage, the kind that suffused his whole being, consumed his thoughts.
Nahollo shifted his stance- he might not have had his sword or his powers, but he was hardly going to give them an easy time of it. Where rage might have clouded the mind of another person, sitting there and being forced to watch others get dragged off to suffer had turned it to a cold rage, as much a weapon in its own right as his sword.
Nahollo did not take the suffering of others lightly.
They ignored the shift in his body language, in his stance, and the two stepped forward, in perfect unison, like soldiers trained to do their duty. Perfect order, perfect symmetry. They approached him, reaching out to grab him, intending to lift him up. They could not care less if he resisted. It would be futile, like all the others' attempts.
Nahollo kept his distance, dropping to the ground and rolling to one side. He was shorter and lower to the ground than these- things- and it meant He had at least that small advantage. He was not going without a fight, and moving so that he was further to one side would make it more difficult for both to attack him.
He may have some advantages, but they had others-- they were impossibly fast, impossibly strong, and their stamina seemed to know no bounds. The third enters the cage, the fourth remaining to block the door off completely and effectively.
The three closed in on him, pressing in to corner Nahollo.
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Anger. Not irritation, not annoyance, not offense, but rage, the kind that suffused his whole being, consumed his thoughts.
Nahollo shifted his stance- he might not have had his sword or his powers, but he was hardly going to give them an easy time of it. Where rage might have clouded the mind of another person, sitting there and being forced to watch others get dragged off to suffer had turned it to a cold rage, as much a weapon in its own right as his sword.
Nahollo did not take the suffering of others lightly.
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The other two stood guard, blocking the door.
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The three closed in on him, pressing in to corner Nahollo.
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