Guthwulf had shorn his graying hair close to his head before the siege had started. Now his helmet fit loosely. Even though he was a strong man still in the prime of his health, he felt almost as though he were shrinking away inside of his armor, becoming smaller and smaller. Was he the only one uneasy, he wondered? Perhaps he had grown soft and womanish in his too many years away from the field of battle. But that could not be true.
Nah bruh. You sense pure evil.
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