Standing before the waterfall, surrounded by the misty golden glow of dozens of candles, Lennart's heart thudded in his chest like a drum, beating out the last march of his life. Zedya had insisted he take time to consider his decision well and by now there wasn't even the slightest doubt in his heart about what he wanted.
Fear, certainly. Every soldier feared death and it was that fear of death that drove him to fight his hardest any time he was forced to don his fighting gauntlets and wade into the fray of battle. But now, death had come for him and he couldn't fight it with fists or claws, only with a will of iron and a determination to remain at Zedya's side that was greater than his deeply ingrained desire to stay alive.
His palms were damp with perspiration and his ears twitched nervously as Nyrielle took her place beside them, acting as a witness for the first part of tonight's ritual.
