“I smell like Blues,” an Obsidian mutters. “Shut up. There are worse things than shit,” Valdir says. “Imprisonment,” another Obsidian growls. Valdir nods. “Yes. That is worse than shit.” “The Blood Eagle,” the same one growls. “That too.” “Long battles in armor where you have to shit but can’t because of the crust that—” Valdir turns on the man. “Aimless babble.” The growling one growls. “Eggplant.” Valdir looks over at me. “He was hit very hard.”
