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Erling gave a weary sigh of exasperation when Parkun began his outburst. The last thing the band of Defenders needed was that. And the last thing he wished to listen to was Parkun’ groaning about what a coward he had been. He usually was patient and calm but right now his patience was waning fast. He was weary and angry and wanted that wretched day and the battle with the Wargs to be over whatever the end would be. He wondered briefly whether shouting with rage would help him get rid of his frustrations, but he reconsidered, realising that it would most likely draw the Wargs to them. He took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Well, then we should go now, unless we want to have more deaths tonight.” he said. “Perhaps there will be more anyway. No matter. We should go. And you…”
Erling turned to Parkun and he was ready to vent all his anger on him, to reprimand him from running away and leaving poor Toby in the claws of the Wargs, but he suddenly found that he could not. How could he talk? He had not been there. He could not tell whether he would not have done the same thing, whether he would really have had the courage to stay. Most likely not, he thought. Most likely he would find it hard to stand and fight even now. He sighed, and shook his head.
“Come, lead the way, Parkun, if you can.” he told him on a weary tone. “I cannot say anything against you, as I cannot tell whether I would not have abandoned Toby myself to save my own skin. But we had better go now. We should hurry.”
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