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Date Posted: 15:03:24 12/07/01 Fri
Author: Blade
Subject: ..anger..
In reply to: Lady Aspasia Valois 's message, "*Her hazel eyes narrow slightly, as the corners of her mouth curve in a sardonic smile.*" on 15:41:11 12/06/01 Thu

Something in her words angers him, and he stands suddenly, knocking his chair over and spilling his wine across the table in the process. He leans foreward, bracing himself on the panks, until her face was a scant face from his. "Nessecary for survival?" he spat. "You don't know survival. You've never slept in a ditch, no food, nothing but the clothes on your back and the sword at your side. Never you. You've never seen your parents murdered before your eyes, as you watch, hidden under the floorboards, and have to wait there for days until they're gone so they don't torture you, too, while the place smells of death and decay. No. Your idea of survival is having to go on the road with less than your usual five servants and eight trunks. No, I doubt you've even had to cook your own meals or clean your own house. Don't talk to me about survival, Lady Aspasia Valois of the House of Charlamagne. Don't insult me so," he replied, backhanding her goblet on the floor in his fury.

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