A fierce battle followed by defeat. Being terribly wounded, the only survivor, there was no choice in action. Either run away to save your half-dead skin, or give up, fall to the ground and die... * His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, his heavy armor was grimacing, his wounds were throbbing all over his body, and blood was pouring out like a river, leaving a scarlet trail in its wake.* **

In his darkened eyes there was a field brightly illuminated by the warm sun, long grass and flowers clinging to tired legs and making it difficult to walk, and a tall, lonely tree growing in the middle of the field. A loud sigh and he collapsed into the shade of a tree, leaning back against the trunk. He was breathing loudly and raggedly, feeling weak, and his eyes were blurred. Death is near. * Suddenly, in the midst of all this agony, a rustle was heard. A rustle that seemed to be getting closer. Oh gods, please let it be the person who saves him.. Please, please....*

"Who... wheezing who is this..?" The knight asked heavily, turning his head slightly at the sound of rustling.