A fight started in the public gallery, no one was happy with the outcome or agreed with the ones that sat next to them. The great general, standing atop the arena held his head and crawled under the dining table.
"What just happened? Why? How? Impossible..." He was rambling, he had lost control of his own troops despite the absence of the enemy, he had lost the pride of one of the most powerful images, the Titan was bleeding and eating dirt, no one came to pick him up, they were too busy trading blows.
'They have only two days left to make a decision on what they'll do with me. I can always jump over the fence and enter the forest, but that won't go unnoticed by the night patrol. I'll have either to force them to let me go for a day or pity mother enough for her to help me walk away. This place is the worst possible for a full moon.'
"Really?" Laurel asked, walking in Oswald's shadow.
