"What do you mean fight? Why will I fight you?"
Raith said, his voice bending with caution. He unintendedly took a step back as the asura was about to start talking.
"Fear. I can smell you fear so well. It's strong, it's irritating, it disgust me… feels my lungs with embers of withered tree, one that was supposed to survive harsh times, grow, spread it branches like wings and reign among the clouds. But withered."
Raith paused, slowly gulped as his eyes stared on the asura's golden eyes that pierced the deepest darkness of his soul with its glow.
'...that's so much words.'
But Raith understood where he was getting at. Was he scared of fighting Thard - Harl? Definitely. Every fiber of his being spoke of it. Even as Raith heard the asura say the word "fight" he had begun to sweat over his forehead.
