Harding's eyes drifted closed. The pain was fading. The sounds of battle came muffled from beyond a veil of numbness. Back to the mud.
A bone-rattling slap snapped Harding's head to the side, and he came instantly, painfully awake with a squawk. A pair of startlingly blue eyes loomed over him.
'Blue-Eyes?' he croaked.
'Oh, good,' Blue-Eyes said, a wide smile on his face. 'You're still alive. On your feet, Redhand!'
Harding was pulled roughly to his feet, screaming in pain as the arrows in his chest and gut twisted. 'Did, fuckin' shit, did we win?'
'Well,' Blue-Eyes said, 'Not exactly.'
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