He looked up, blinking, as Chela’s form faded in and out in the dark. He opened his mouth to speak, but only blood answered. He tried to move again and found himself facedown on the ground, dirt scraping his cheeks, body failing as the poison reached his heart, and it stuttered… and then stopped. And Okoa knew his luck had finally run out.
FUUUUUUUUCK. I LIKED THIS DUDE
