The Keep was as he remembered it to be. Crowded and STUFFY, especially warm in his thick gear, and WROUGHT of stress and grief. The GUILT he held on his shoulders for not having been on the grounds when IT happened was INSURMOUNTABLE. It was no matter that he was equally needed in other lands, if only he’d been quicker in his duty, he would of been quicker to return home and there was a CHANCE he could of helped.
But what was done, was DONE, and they could only move f o r w a r d.
Tibalt hurried through the busy hallway, his thoughts MUDDLED with the various tasks he had to preform in such a short time. He was OVERWHELMED, to say the least. So much so that he failed to watch where he was walking, proving to be unfortunate when he knocked directly into someone.
