The Blade's Shadow

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His heart was beating quickly, is if he were some cornered sewer rat at the paws of an alley cat. No one had had managed to get this close to him without losing a limb before (or their life far more often). Even the General hadn’t closed in the distance between the both of them without receiving wounds in return. Alas, this was a different matter. It took all of his willpower not to lash out in defense. 

Eyes blinked as she made the motion of grabbing something behind her form. Talon was wary, assuming she would pull out a weapon. Instead a glass bottle was shown, much like the ones he’s seen drunken individuals gulp down. The young man tilted his head to the side, confused by what her intensions were. 

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His gaze swiftly left, no longer wishing to continue the conversation. Sleep never came to the boy easily. Living in the sewers, a predator could been given an opportunity to strike if he ever so much decided to pause to catch his breath. Sleeping for a full night’s rest was always out of the question, only to the point where exhaustion overtook his consciousness. He had yet to adapt to such a safe environment. 

Again he flinched as contact was made with his shoulder, swiftly lifting his hand to pry her arm away from his small frame. Sharp eyes glared back at her, his hand instinctively grabbing onto the knife he had placed down moments prior. Every muscle in his body had to urge to pounce on her for making an effort in touching him. 

“Nothing. Go.” 

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES.

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He flinched as the door was roughly opened. Part of him could’ve sworn some of the hinges had been thrown off, but that wasn’t worth being concerned about. The young teen set down the knives he had been polishing, slowing turning his head over his shoulder to glance at his sister. 

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES.

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It had been done. The mission, a success. With no witnesses to suspect him either. Alas, he had not been given such a clean getaway. The councilmen he had been tasked to assassinate had been a relatively easy kill, but the man had been quite the paranoid individual. Step beartraps on their roof of all things. Cloaked in the darkness, Talon had clearly not spotted one of them. He luckily had been trained to muffle any sounds of pain, yet it was quite evident the steel teeth had buried themselves deep within the flesh of his leg. The assassin, swift as he could, made his way back to the Grand General’s quarters. The only evidence of such injury was his light panting and limp onto his side. Sharp eyes glared at the older man, denying the suggestion immediately. 

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES.

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Why? He couldn’t understand why they were so interested in his wellbeing. A mere sewer rat was all he was, scurrying through drains and remaining hidden in the shadows until the opportune time to strike made itself known. To be given such attention, such concern...He felt shameful. Having the title of Noxus’s Assassin and be hurt as a result of a simple mission, it was disgraceful. So why was the Grand General so interested in aiding him? His response came out harshly, ashamed of himself.