Blake had never wished for war – a big bloody war where everyone and anyone could get hurt.
And yet, it was happening. Not because he had truly wanted it to, but because of his rash action. Said action, he had close to no control over it, and he didn't regret it one iota.
He was fighting Jerry, Kyle's cousin, alone in a deserted place while his companions and his mate watched from afar.
The weasel's cousin was really only avenging his grandmother's death, or at least trying to. He didn’t care much about his cousin’s death. He had told him so. Kyle deserved what he got… And Blake couldn’t agree more.
Not many had wanted to involve themselves in the upcoming war. Most of them were used to peace, and had the most basic and primal need to keep it going on for as long as it could possi
