Ichijo struggled with the horse on top of him, his leg well and truly trapped. With the combined weight of the beast and the grip of the stirrups, it was impossible to move. It did not help that the horse thrashed around madly in pain, crushing his leg again and again. It would not surprise him if he found it broken, for the pain was certainly sufficient.
He slit the horse's throat to end its suffering. Its blood spilt out violently all over him, threatening to drown him. He struggled against it. In truth, he already knew himself to be dead. Action helped to stop him from falling into a blind panic. His world had been shattered. The truth that was his own strength had been dismissed and so frankly at that.
