Two drops of blood dripped from the tip of the sword onto Skye's dress. Indignation was written all over the nomad's face. He looked at the sword protruding from his chest, then down at Skye. Shock and fear lit up his features before he fell to the side; dead upon impact. Skye watched as he dropped; grateful in too many ways, for too many reasons. When she looked up to see her savior; she was beyond shocked to see that it had been the other nomad.
He was breathing so hard, Skye was surprised that he was able to stand. He took a step back, and plopped down into the mud as the thought crossed her mind. Still on her guard; Skye sat up, and scooted over by the water. When the young man saw her put her hand in it, he instantly straightened his back, and put his hands up in a defensive manner.
"For the love of the Gods! PLEASE don't drown me again! I just saved ye! I may be slow, but Ima Not suicidal!" the young man scooted back another two feet as he'd spoken.
